Faithful Light
by Miss Jazz
Summary: An accident leaves Grissom and Sara stranded out in the wilderness. Together, they must face the complexities of their relationship, making for a long and very personal journey home. GSR.
1. Beautiful, Bright Stars

Faithful Light

By Miss Jazz

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**Category:** Drama/Angst, GSR. 

**Rating:** PG-13

**Spoilers:** Here and there! Probably some from all seasons.

**Summary:** An accident leaves Grissom and Sara out in the wilderness and it will be a long and very personal journey home.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CSI! If I did, Grissom and Sara would have been together long ago!

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Gil Grissom had never seen so many stars. 

_One–two–three–four–one hundred–one million._

The sky was a stunning deep blue and Grissom's eyelids fluttered madly, fighting a peculiar darkness to focus on the twinkling lights above. He lay very still, soaking in the silence as he counted the stars, searching for familiar constellations. _I must be lost in time,_ he thought, suddenly wondering why everything seemed so still, so peaceful. He had never felt so connected to the heavens or so connected to himself. It was as if everything in the world made perfect sense and all the questions he had ever asked were suddenly answered. Except one.

He had no idea _why_ he was stargazing.

But that thought was lost quickly, disappearing from his hazy consciousness before he could object._ Beautiful, bright stars. _That was all he knew. He couldn't think about anything else. In fact, there was nothing else _to _think about–at least not at that moment.Grissom felt as if he were all by himself, locked in a strange world where time stood still, unable to question it further, unable to escape and unsure if he ever wanted to.

His eyelids were heavy and the stars disappeared for a moment. Panicking, Grissom blinked rapidly, feeling a chill as the wind suddenly picked up around him._ That's odd,_ he thought, as his mind quickly sharpened._ It's cold. _He forced his eyes open, feeling as if he accomplished a great feat when he finally managed to do it. _Why am I cold?_ His fingers tingled as he slowly became aware of his heavy body and he shuddered, breathing deeply, desperately.

Grissom sighed. The stars were still up there but for some reason, he was no longer a part of them, no longer connected. There was a distinct distance between them now and Grissom felt as if he were being pulled away, as if he were being forced to abandon the solitude that he had so briefly enjoyed. As he plummeted back into reality, he couldn't help but notice a coppery taste in his mouth and a dull pain pumping through his entire body. He no longer felt light and relaxed. Instead, he felt as if he were being twisted by some strange force and dragged through the darkness that threatened to consume him.

_Hurry,_ he told himself sternly. He had to hurry and he didn't know why. The stars were more distinct now and somehow, Grissom knew that he had reachedsome sort of destination. He arrived rather quickly, his eyes focussing rapidly on the first thing that came into view.

A shattered window. _Blood. _

And suddenly, he was very conscious. He had never been so conscious in his life. The memories hit him like a thousand bricks, the imagined impact causing his body to jerk away from the window beside him. _Broken glass. Blood. Bright stars. Seatbelt. More blood. _No longer dazed and frozen, Grissom's mind reeled. He was in his Tahoe, still buckled into the driver's seat but the space around him was smaller than he remembered. He groaned as the details came flooding back.

_Wilderness. Sharp Turn. Headlights. Panic. Tumbling. Silence._ Grissom tried to catch his breath as he pieced the event together, remembering how his truck had rolled several times and then landed upright. He was suddenly aware of the air bag against the side of his face and he pulled his gaze away from the broken window and away from the stars to take stock of his surroundings. Except for a few cuts on his face and an intense pain in his left arm, Grissom didn't think he was badly injured. But he moved a bit to make sure, to test his limbs and his level of consciousness. And right then, as he pushed the air bag away from his body and became very aware of the extensive damage to the vehicle, he remembered that he wasn't alone.

_Sara._

Grissom could have sworn that his heart stopped beating. Shifting uneasily but rapidly in his seat, his eyes fell upon Sara's motionless form. She was unconscious, trapped in the seat next to him, a thick stream of blood trickling down her pale cheek. Grissom froze for a split second, feeling his whole world screech to a halt. But an icy energy instantly propelled him through thick, dark clouds of panic and back into the startling present.

His breath caught in his throat. "God, Sara–"

_Talk to me, Sara. Open your eyes and talk to me, _Grissom silently urged. He summoned all his strength to free himself from his seat, glancing frantically over at Sara as he battled with his tangled seatbelt. He listened for her breathing, praying that there would be more than silence but his heart thumped in his ears, making it impossible to hear anything else. He stared, hoping to see her chest rise and fall but between her coat and the air bag, there wasn't much of a chance.

"Sara! Can you hear me?" he called out to her, his voice loud and full of fear. Grissom finally managed to free himself from his seat and he instantly leaned over, ducking under the now sunken roof to reach over to her. Nervously, he pressed two fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse. He held his breath as he searched her throat, exhaling only when he felt the weak beat of her heart under his fingertips.

_Head wound. Pulse is weak. _He took another calming breath and then moved his hand to her chest, desperate to feel movement. He listened at the same time, barely making out the soft whistle of Sara's shallow breaths. But it was enough. _She's moving air._ _Thank God. _He nodded to himself, smiling in relief when he finally realized that she was still with him.

He pulled back, anxious toget himself out of the vehicle and around to Sara's side. His door was badly jammed, bent almost beyond recognition but by some miracle, it fell open when Grissom slammed his body against it. He ignored the pain in his arm and dragged himself out, stopping to catch his breath when he hit the uneven ground. Briefly, he scoured the landscape, again trying to remember exactly how they ended up lost and injured in the wilderness. _Think later,_ Grissom told himself as he clambered up onto his knees. As he caught his breath, Grissom found himself staring up into the sky again, this timefull ofknowledge and pain.

_Stay with me, Sara._

Where they were, he really didn't know. Of course, he did know that he was _somewhere_. And that Sara was there too. _They _were there. Together. Lost. Damaged. His eyes now very adjusted, Grissom made his way through the darkness, around the front of the broken Tahoe, to Sara's side. He could see his breath in the cool night air and he shivered, feeling the panic in his soul.

The only light came from the stars in the sky.

TBC

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Author's Note: Hey all! This is my first attempt at a CSI WIP and I would love to know if you would like to see more! I would very much appreciate some feedback on this! Next chapter would be Sara's POV and the story would all be pieced together as both Grissom and Sara remember the accident. Lots of angst and drama! Thanks to everyone who has supported my first couple of stories! It's great to have support! 

Thanks,

Jazz.


	2. In Flight

_She was flying. _

_And then she wasn't._

That was exactly how she remembered it. Trapped in a thick, persistent fog, Sara Sidle battled with her fractured consciousness, trying desperately to make sense of the silence that surrounded her._ Hot case. Road Trip. Darkness. Headlights. And then–? _She vaguely remembered being tossed through the air but held down at the very same time, trapped, unable to free herself, unable to breathe. In fact, she had been pondering the laws of physics when she tumbled into nothingness. _Yes, physics._ That was the last thing she remembered. _No, wait, _Sara moaned to herself, fighting through the haze. The _last_ thing she remembered was the horrifying, split second montage of her entire life as it flashed before her eyes. Then, she only knew darkness.

Feeling very odd, Sara tried to take a deep breath, hoping to take in some good, clean air and rid her body of the carbon dioxide that seemed to be clouding her thoughts. _You're working way too much, _she told herself. _You're tired and you're cranky._ _Do everyone a favour and get some sleep._ She would have contemplated that idea but the thought dissolved the moment she realized that she could barely breathe.

_Can't...breathe...?_

_God, help me,_ she begged, panicking in the darkness. Her breaths were shallow and she knew it. She just didn't know _why._ She searched her mind, hoping that everything would just come back to her, hoping that she would remember where she was. Instead, she became increasingly confused and she felt as if she were drifting far, far away, sinking further into her foggy oblivion.

But something pulled her back. Or _someone. _A loud, familiar voice pierced the haze and Sara suddenly realized that she wasn't alone. "Sara! Can you hear me?" Frozen in her seat and completely unable to answer, Sara listened carefully, trying to focus on the deep, distant voice. There were a thousand emotions in that one gentle voice and Sara's panic instantly subsided, only to be replaced with intense pain. As the voice beckoned to her, she became aware of a sharp ache echoing through her rattled brain, thumping furiously against her skull.

It was all coming back. _She_ was coming back. And it was happening way too fast._ The accident._ Sara shuddered as her last conscious moments finally became clear, pulling her further into the harsh reality that awaited. Her sharpened memories were sporadic but already, they were both mentally and physically painful. She could now feel how tense her body was and she could feel her heart pumping rapidly in her chest. She had never been in so much pain.

The comforting voice disappeared for a little while and then returned but this time it was much closer to her. Again, Sara realized that she _knew _that voice, she could _feel_ it. Another wave of pain surged through her small frame and she moaned loudly, gritting her teeth. Then, she felt a warm, soft breath on her cheek and then against her ear. The gentle, encouraging voice talked her through the agony, pulling her out of the darkness and bringing her closer and closer to a hazy but faithful light.

"I'm right here, Sara. Open your eyes for me, honey." _Honey?_ Sara managed another ragged breath. Why did that sound familiar? Why did it spark a strange sense of hope in her heart? Her eyelids fluttered briefly in response but they were too heavy and she let them rest.

"Sara?" She quickly became aware of a warm, tender hand on her forehead and another one on her neck. There was an overwhelming sense of urgency and Sara could feel her body being shifted carefully. The warm, gentle hands worked quickly, rapidly searching, pushing, pulling and pressing. They were inflicting pain but relieving it at the same time and Sara wasn't sure what to think. _I just need to open my eyes, _she thought, feeling lost again. She knew that she was still somehow trapped. She knew that there had been an accident and she remembered the sound of shattering glass but she hadn't really made the connection between her body and the vehicle. So she still couldn't figure out why she felt as if she were pinned under the world's largest paperweight.

As she fought with her heavy eyelids, Sara became aware of the chilly night air. She shivered involuntarily, sending a jolt of pain through her body, consequently heightening her other four senses. She could feel the cold air and the warm hands working on her trembling form. She could taste blood in her mouth. She could hear her moans and that soft voice as it hovered close to her ear. She could smell gasoline and damp earth. And when her eyes finally opened, she could see a million scattered stars through a broken windshield.

Then, her gaze fell upon Grissom. _Grissom._ The kind, gentle, insistent voice belonged to her long-time friend and supervisor. _Of course,_ Sara thought, trying to force her eyes open wider. She was fully conscious now and Grissom's concerned expression was enough to make her racing heart skip a beat–for so many reasons. "Griss–"

She felt his strong hand envelop her trembling fingers."I'm right here, Sara," he said softly. She watched him curiously as he examined her eyes in the faint light."Do you know where you are?"

Sara winced and swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very nauseous. "Stuck," she mumbled, almost incoherently._ I'm trapped. Pinned down. Again. _Smiling weakly at the memory, she struggled to get a better look at Grissom, fighting a wave of dizziness as she moved her head ever so slightly. Her hazy eyes found a small but bloody cut on his faceand she gasped. "You–you're bl–bleeding!"

Grissom nodded, his free hand stroking her hair, gently brushing a long strand from her bruised forehead. There was nothing necessarily intimate about the gesture but it was comforting nonetheless. Sara sighed, still staring at the cut. "I'm fine," Grissom assured her. "But you might have a concussion and we need to get you out of this seat. Do you understand, Sara?"

Sara nodded carefully. Grissom was all business now but she could still hear a hint of emotion in his voice.He released her hand gently but Sara frantically grabbed for it again, desperately seeking comfort and reassurance. "Don't–let–go, Griss. Please!"she mumbled, suddenly finding his fingers and she grasping them with all the strength she had–which wasn't much. Even squeezing his hand was too much work and Sara felt her eyelids droop again. They were just too heavy. "Tired," she groaned out as her head fell back against the mangled seat.

"Sara!" She instantly felt a soft hand against her cheek.

"God, Griss," she moaned, forcing her eyes open again. "It hurts–"

"I know, Sara. But you have to stay with me, okay?" His voice was so gentle yet so urgent and Sara wasn't sure if she had ever heard anything like it before. "I need you to tell me _where_ it hurts so I can move you. Can you do that, Sara?"

Sara nodded again slowly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "How did this hap–happen?"

"We'll worry about that later, okay?"

She was too weak to protest. "Yeah, Griss. Okay"

Sara sat completely still, answering Grissom's questions as honestly as possible while trying to ignore the pain. She was reluctant to admit that her entire body hurt but she got the feeling that Grissom had a pretty accurate idea. He was, after all, very perceptive and he knew her well. _At least he used to,_ Sara thought to herself, crying out as Grissom began to help her out of the Tahoe. It was a painstaking process, a slow and difficult one. The passenger side of the vehicle had been smashed beyond recognition and the only way out was through the broken window. Grissom pulled her through it as gently as possible and Sara tried to relax, hoping that it would help. But it was nearly impossible.

"Shit," she muttered, as her pant leg snagged against a broken shard of glass. She could feel the warm trickle of blood down her shin and she instantly became disoriented, her head pounding so hard she felt it through her entire body. "Griss," she gasped out. "Hurr–hurry, Grissom. I'm going to–to be sick."

The rest of the trip from the Tahoe down to the Nevada earth was a blur. Sara was dimly aware of Grissom's movements as he gently pulled her body through the window and into his arms. He talked to her softly, explaining every step, but Sara filtered his words–taking in only what she needed to relax, only the words of compassion and encouragement. She wasn't quite ready to know about the extent of her injuries or about the damage to the Tahoe. She was already sick enough. In fact, the second she was out of the vehicle, she found herself on her knees, violently emptying her stomach.

"Dammit," she groaned softly, bracing her head with her hands. Grissom rubbed her back and held her hair, using the rest of his body to brace her shaking form. When she was finished, Sara let her body sink to the ground, feeling Grissom's hands on her back the whole way. She felt him grasp her hand again and weakly, she looked up at him, suddenly remembering the beginning of their shift. It seemed like it had been years since Grissom had informed her of their assignment. She couldn't remember all the details but she did remember her reaction. And as she lay there, bruised and bleeding on the ground, the ironic echo of her words haunted the consciousness she was so desperately clinging to.

"_Well, you know I love a good road trip."_

TBC

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Author's Note: Should I continue? I would love to know what you think! Special thanks to Brelli, Felicity Young, leddy, the wanna be dwarf, Minner33, angry penguin, Lifeguard, Sila ningue, Tami, renzic, TrishG, Teenwitch, saskia2, Jayke Manners, marcelle, Ming and brainfear for reviewing the first chapter! I really appreciate it and I hope you'll all stick with me! 

Thanks,

Jazz


	3. Navigation

For a few moments, there was nothing but the dark silence. Kneeling next to Sara's shivering form, Grissom tried to catch his breath and pull himself together. He glanced at his watch quickly, barely making out the time in the starlight. From what he could tell, only twenty minutes had gone by since the Tahoe swerved violently off the road. But he had lost all sense of time in that period and it felt more like a week had passed. He shook his head, tightening his grip on Sara's cold hand as he planned out the best course of action.

_Keep Sara warm and comfortable._ _Keep her conscious. _That was most important. He knew that he needed to take care of her before even thinking about anything else. Grissom felt a shudder pass through his body as he studied Sara's face. Her beautiful features were twisted in pain and her dull, glassy eyes were just half-open, devoid of all emotion except pure anguish.

"You still with me, Sara?" Grissom called to her loudly, leaning closer to check her pupils. He lifted a droopy eyelid and tried to assess her condition in the dim light. Grissom had only been able to take a quick inventory of her injuries in the Tahoe but now, despite the darkness, he had a clear and shocking view. Sara was awake but she could only tremble under Grissom as he studied her brown orbs and talked to her gently. He talked silently too, keeping all the disturbing details to himself.

_Concussion. Deep cuts. Extensive bruising. Shock._ Grissom winced. The lab explosion had been a walk in the park. He pressed his hand to the cut on Sara's forehead, applying pressure in an effort to stop the steady crimson flow. But the blood quickly seeped through his fingers and he had to stop himself from gasping out loud. _Head wounds bleed a lot, _he reminded himself. Suddenly, he became all too aware that it was Sara's life force puddling on the ground and for the first time in his life, Gil Grissom found the sight of blood absolutely revolting. He closed his eyes briefly, knowing that he had to stay calm."Sara? Talk to me, please."

"What shhhh–should I say?" Sara finally mumbled.

Grissom brought his other hand to her cheek, patting it to keep her awake. "Tell me how you're feeling."

"Sick," she moaned. "I still feel–sick."

He nodded into the darkness."You have a concussion," he explained softly. "Nausea is a common symptom."He forced a smile, hoping that she might be able to see it and hoping that if she did, it would mask his increasing concern. "You're going to be fine, honey. But it's important that you stay awake."

She sighed. "I–I'm awake–I think."

"Good."Grissom glanced over at the crumpled Tahoe and then quickly turned back to Sara, just in time to see her draw in a ragged breath. "How's your breathing?"

"It's fine, Griss," Sara whispered in reply. She bit her lip, wincing in pain but she said no more.

Noticing the distress in Sara's voice, Grissom urgently gathered her hand into his and pressed it against her head wound, quickly removing his own hand in the process. Sara moaned but she managed to keep her fingers where they were placed. "I need you to keep pressure on that cut, Sara," Grissom told her as he moved to stand up. "Just for a minute."

"Cut?" Still in a daze, Sara tried to pull herself into a sitting position, only to be met by Grissom's firm hand. He gently pushed her back down to the ground. "Griss–"

"Lie still."

"What? Where you goin'?" she asked, still slurring her words.

"Just to the truck. I won't be long. But I want you to keep talking to me," he said, making it to his feet and standing uneasily. He swayed. _Hold it together,_ he told himself, searching for his balance. He had forgotten about his own injuries and while they didn't seem serious, they weren't, by any means, pleasant. His left arm ached and he was bleeding from a few superficial cuts. He examined one warily._ I was the lucky one._ The thought sent another shiver down his spine and he took a few quick steps over to the Tahoe, his heart fluttering nervously as he peered into the now infamous passenger side window. "Sara–"

"I'm okay," she called weakly. "Are _you_ okay, Griss?"

Grissom didn't reply to that. Instead, he reached in through the broken window and, being careful to avoid the remaining shards of glass, he reached in to see if he could open the back door. It was badly jammed but he tried anyway, his fingers reaching for the inside handle. Luckily, there was no sign of smoke or flame and Grissom was very thankful that he could focus on getting supplies out of the Tahoe. The sooner he reached them, the better. As he fought with the door, he thought up questions to ask Sara, to keep _his _mind off the amount of blood in the vehicle and to keep _her _awake. "So, can you remember anything?" he called out to her, his voice muffled by the seat.

Sara heaved a sigh and Grissom swore he heard a slight chuckle. "Headlights, Grissom,"she replied. "That's it. And the beginning of–our shift."

"That's good," he replied, finally pulling the handle. He moved to the outside of the door with some difficulty and yanked at it, wondering if he should try the other back door. The driver's side hadn't sustained as much damage and Grissom grumbled to himself for not thinking clearly in the first place. Everything was slowly filtering back, things were finally making some sense and Grissom's memory was sharpening."I'm starting to remember a little more," he said, trying to maintain the vital conversation.

There was a frightening pause.

"Great," wheezed Sara. "You–you can fill me in."

Grissom let out an anxious breath and called to her loudly. "How are you doing, Sara?"

"Fine. Cold."

"You won't be in a minute," he replied softly. Just then, the tempermental door popped open and Grissom sighed in relief, grateful that he didn't have to fight with the other door as well. With a grunt, he held the heavy door open and forced his body inside the Tahoe. His eyes scanned the back seat for the items he needed–or rather, the items _Sara _needed. _My kit. The first aid kit. Blanket. Water bottle. Cell phone._ No one could say that he wasn't prepared for anything. Grissom always kept his vehicle stocked with basic necessities and now, it would definitely pay off.

Grissom found his cell phone first. He had put it in the console between the two front seats but now it lay on the floor in the back, partially hidden under debris. Grissom grabbed at it, switching it on immediately, praying that it would work. His heart plummeted when he was met with the 'No Signal' message but he couldn't say that he hadn't expected it. "I found my phone," he called out anyway, waiting nervously for her reply. It came quickly this time.

"Mine's in my–my pocket," she muttered. "Def–definitely broken."

"Well, mine isn't broken but we're going to have to play around to get a signal," he told her honestly.

Sara stifled a weak laugh. "Play around?"

Grissom almost smiled. Almost. "You know what I mean." He shoved his phone into his pocket and started pulling the other items from the Tahoe, placing them carefully on the ground. He took anything he saw, anything that would help make Sara comfortable. He even grabbed a Forensics magazine that he had picked up in the mail earlier that day. _I can use that to start a fire,_ he realized, shaking his head. He didn't normally burn his reading material–that wasn't _him_ at all. But this wasn't any normal occurrence, either.

Grissom was pulling his emergency blanket out from under the seat when Sara moaned. Loudly. "I'm–I'm going to be sick again," she said, her voice shaking and her breathing rapid. Grissom turned to see her thrust herself onto her knees and violently double over. He quickly gathered everything up and returned to her side, one hand immediately moving to the back of her neck and the other to her hair, smoothing it away from her face. As Sara threw up the little that was left in her stomach, Grissom's mind wandered back to the beginning of their shift, remembering the last time he saw her smiling and relaxed.

"_So, we've got a DB in the boonies, huh?"_ _Sara said, grinning broadly at Grissom as she followed him to his Tahoe._

"_Yeah," Grissom replied, raising an eyebrow. "Middle aged male found in a creek bed up North. Hope you're wearing the right shoes."_

_Sara rolled her eyes."Always." _

_Grissom handed her the case file and offered a half-smile. "This is all the information we have right now."_

_Sara took the file and stashed it under her arm. Then she and Grissom both put their kits in the back seat of the Tahoe and climbed in the front. "So, Greg isn't joining us?" she asked curiously, securing her seatbelt._

_Grissom shook his head. "No and he's disappointed. I've already got him processing some evidence from the scene. Sent to us compliments of the county sheriff."_

"_Did they send a map with it?" _

_Grissom nodded and smiling slightly, he handed Sara the folded paper. "The route is marked down on the bottom."_

_Sara squinted her eyes. All she saw was a large coffee stain and some scribbles. "Wow–this is wonderfully legible," she muttered. "And they call **me** chicken scratch!"_

"_Can you make it out?"_

"_Yeah. I got it. Do we have this guy's cell phone number?"_

_Grissom started the engine and pointed to the file, which now lay on Sara's lap."In there," he paused. "I talked to him on the phone and he gave me the directions verbally as well."_

"_How far are we going?" she wondered out loud, tracing their route on the map._

"_Couple hours drive."_ _He paused_._"This will get you out of the lab for awhile, anyway." He eyed her skeptically._

"_Well, you know I love a good road trip," Sara pointed out. Then she lowered her voice."And if you're referring to my extra shifts this week–I, uh, I didn't mean to fall asleep in the break room. It was just a nap."_

"_Did Greg slip something into your coffee? Or were you just exhausted?"_

"_Let's just drop it, Grissom." She became very quiet, looking over at her supervisor almost nervously. "I appreciate your concern," she finally whispered._

_Grissom felt warm. He bit his lip, nodding slowly. "Feel free to get some rest on the way, Sara," he told her, his voice soft. "I'll wake you if I need you to navigate."_

_Navigation._ Grissom sighed.Yes, that's where they had gone wrong. That's where all the trouble began. It was surprising–he hadn't thought about the case at all since they'd left the lab and he suddenly found that he was very angry. As he held Sara's unsteady body, he even thought about burning the case file instead of his magazine. As far as he could remember, it wasn't entirely his fault that they were out there. But, as he felt Sara's ghostly cold skin, he couldn't help but feel completely responsible–for _everything._

Sara sat up a bit, leaning into Grissom for support. "I'm sorry, Griss," she whispered, dropping her head weakly onto his shoulder. He watched as she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. _Why is **she** apologizing?_ Grissom wondered as he helped her lay back down. He felt another surge of anger as he covered her in the blanket, tucking the edges around her trembling body.

"There's no reason for you to apologize, Sara."

She looked up at him and Grissom sighed, noticing the tear in the corner of her eye. Grissom noticed that she was a little more aware of her surroundings but he wasn't sure if he was relieved or if it was something else. He had never felt so many conflicting emotions. Grissom maintained eye contact with Sara, rubbing her fingers vigorously to restore circulation. "Thanks,"she said, clearing her throat.

"Warmer?" he asked, reaching into his first aid kit with one hand. Sara nodded. He pulled out a large bandage and he pressed it to her forehead, again helping Sara to push her own fingers against it. She had a little more strength now and she applied enough pressure to the deep wound, allowing Grissom to check the rest of her injuries–this time with the help of his small flashlight.

"Do you think anything is broken?" Grissom asked her, his tone and his eyes serious as he pulled the flashlight from his big, silver kit.

Sara gave him a small smile. "Other than my cell phone?"

"Wry sense of humour is intact," Grissom noted lightly. "That's good."

Sara sighed. "I think it's mostly cuts and bruises, Griss. And–and one hell of a concussion."

"And shock," Grissom added gently, picking up her wrist to time her pulse. Sara blinked a few times, nodding in reluctant agreement. _Pulse is still weak and rapid,_ he noted silently. _But not as bad as before._ After he set her free hand down, Grissom checked to make sure the blanket was still securely tucked around her form and then moved to check her pupils again with his light. They were equal but still a little sluggish. The most important thing, however, was that Sara was awake and talking to him, her words finally making a little more sense. Grissom felt his own heart slow to a decent pace.

"So," Sara began, shifting to make herself comfortable under the blanket. "What's the plan now?"

Grissom looked up at her, almost in surprise. "Plan?" He moved to apply pressure to the cut on her shin. He grimaced. _Oh yeah. The plan. The one that's going to get you both out of here alive._ Grissom wasn't sure what to say so he just nodded. "Let's just take everything one minute at a time," he said quietly. "I'm going to get a fire started so we can keep you warm and then we'll see if we can get the cell phone working. That sound okay?"

Sara agreed. "And you'll fill me in on what you remember?"

"I'll do my best."

"And you'll take care of _your_ injuries, too?"

Grissom stopped. He had forgotten again. "Yes, Sara. I will." He bandaged her shin, patted her leg gently and then slid his kit under her, elevating her feet. "And _you're_ going to stay awake. Understand?"

"Yeah." Her voice was small. When she became quiet again, Grissom immediately moved to make eye contact with her, grasping her free hand tightly. He stared into her eyes, reading her fear clearly. His heart picked up, pounding in his chest and he quickly scanned the rest of her body, knowing very well that she hadn't told him everything. _Internal injuries._ His stomach sank. _Probably._ He definitely needed a plan. And he needed one fast. In the meantime, he couldn't risk worrying Sara, so he squeezed her hand and spoke softly.

"Hey." He brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "We'll figure this out, alright?"

She nodded, staring up at him in silence.

"Everything's going to be okay."

TBC

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Author's Note: I would love to know if you'd like to see more! Comments and suggestions are wonderful! Special thanks to Marlou (for her thoughtful e-mails!), wanda57, svcmc, rokothepas, Sila ningue,the wanna be dwarf, Ming, marymay2012, Kimber McLeod, saskia2, Chicklit, TrishG,gabesaunt, DolphinAnimagus, Pheo, niff74 and brainfear for reviewing! I really appreciate your support! 

Jazz


	4. The Middle Of Nowhere

_Don't look down, Sidle. _Frozen on the edge of a mighty cliff, Sara felt her body sway in the cool wind. She stood there in complete silence, with her toes curled around the rocky brink and her arms held out to her sides in a delicate balancing act. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she fought to maintain her focus and she took small breaths, inhaling and exhaling in cautious control, praying every millisecond that the movement wouldn't send her plummeting into the depths below. _Stay perfectly still._ She silently repeated those words, over and over again, wondering why there was darkness when she teetered forward and pain when she held herself back. She would have searched for an explanation but the sudden jolt of a powerful voice removed her from the cliff altogether.

"Sara!"

_What? Grissom? _Sara forced her eyes open wider and tilting her head slightly, she searched for Grissom, her body shaking in pain. "I'm still awake,"she mumbled, letting out a labored breath of relief when his fuzzy form came into view. _At least I think I am. It's getting harder to tell._ "Griss?"

"You stopped talking," Grissom replied, his eyes seeking her own. Sara couldn't help but notice the concern in his gentle tone and meeting his soft, shadowy gaze, she pulled the heavy blanket closer to her chin.

"I ran out of things to say," Sara answered plainly, a weak smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Grissom stared at her for a moment and he was about to respond when Sara let out a faint chuckle. "I know–that's pretty rare."

"That's not what I was thinking."

_What **are** you thinking, Griss? _Sara sighed and watched as Grissom turned to continue building their bonfire. They had moved further away from the damaged Tahoe and Sara had been trying desperately to stay awake, clinging to Grissom's words and occasionally managing to make use of her own. It was so tempting to just close her eyes and forget the pain but Grissom kept pulling her back from the edge, comforting and encouraging her with his kind voice. _He really cares,_ she realized, feeling a little warmer. _But probably not in the way I want him to._ Sara winced, suddenly feeling a strong urge to slap herself for even thinking about that. She was lying on the ground, spilling blood and moaning in pain, with barely any recollection of how she got there–yet she could only think about her broken heart? She cringed. _You're not making any sense,_ she told herself. _None at all._

"I'm not sure if this is going to light," announced Grissom. "The ground is pretty damp." Sara quickly snapped out of her self-deprecating trance and shifted carefully to get a better look. She saw Grissom pull out the emergency matches from his first aid kit and she silently thanked him for being so prepared. Grissom carefully placed a few more moist twigs in his arranged pile andthen hegrabbed his magazine, moving to set it aflame.

Sara groaned when she saw what Grissom was about to use to start the fire. "Wait. Don't burn that," she said, forcing a feeble grin. "Burn the case file instead. I don't think we'll need it now."

Grissom raised one eyebrow, smiling briefly at her joke. "I thought the same thing," he admitted. "But I think the file is a little more important than my magazine, whether we use it or not. And getting you warm is _definitely_ more important."

Sara nodded faintly in agreement and Grissom reached over to squeeze her hand, sending a spark of the desired warmth through Sara's trembling fingers. "At least save _one_ article," she whispered. "We might need some reading material when it's light out."

"You're going to be in a hospital by the time the sun comes up," Grissom said determinedly, putting a little more pressure on her fingers. "They have tons of magazines."

"Yeah but they're probably not_ forensics_ magazines."

Grissom handed the monthly issue to Sara, placing it in her hand before grabbing his flashlight. "Here," he said softly, clicking the switch to produce the steady beam of light. "You pick something and we'll keep that."

"It's okay," she replied. "You pick it for me. My head hurts." She paused, taking a small breath. "But thanks."

Grissom nodded sympathetically and then he quickly flipped through the magazine, selecting an article and tearing it out expertly. "I'm surprised you don't have a subscription to this one," he said, folding the pages and then tucking them into Sara's coat pocket. "Remind me to get you one when we get home."

_Home? Oh yeah–Vegas._ Sara smiled weakly again. Grissom was trying to make her feel better and she was grateful but she hadn't really thought about their return home. She was already in so much pain that she found herself wondering how long she would actually be able to hold on. _A couple hours maybe,_ she estimated. As Grissom successfully started a fire, Sara tried again to piece together the few memories she had of the accident. Then she took another uncomfortable breath, fighting off a wave of nausea. "Grissom?"

"I'm right here, honey."

_Honey. He said it again._ Sara bit her lip. _Don't think about it. You're sick enough._ She ignored her emotions and remained quiet as Grissom carefully added another twig to the fire. After the flames devoured the small branches and the magazine, he returned to her side, immediately helping her to move closer to the heat. His hands were gentle but even the slight movement was excruciating and Sara gasped, shutting her eyes tightly as an intense pain ripped through her stomach and her chest. The pain was unbelievably explosive and Sara panicked, unable to breathe. "Oh God," she gasped out, her voice hoarse. "Stop, Griss–"

Grissom instantly froze. He softened his hold on her shoulder and he helped her lay back again, his hands flying to her neck to keep her still. When Sara opened her eyes, he stared deeply into them, just as her pool of tears spilled over. She had only moved a few slow inches and the consequences were devastating. "Try to relax, Sara," Grissom told her, a hint of fear in his voice. "Shallow breaths, okay?"

Sara blinked through her tears. "I'm–I'm fine," she cried, sucking in a little bit of air. "Just–just moved the wrong way." Sara gritted her teeth, carefully turning her head to look away from Grissom, hoping to hide her tears–even though she knew he had already seen them. _Why even bother lying to him?_ she groaned to herself._ We've already done enough of that._

"Sara–" His hand was on her head, his fingers stroking her hair in an effort to comfort her. Sara was still gasping and she was in too much pain to sort out the meaning of his gesture. She just wanted to feel safe so she managed to let all meaning slip away, taking the comfort at face value–whatever it meant.

"Just–give me a–minute," Sara requested softly, trying to calm herself. She reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, wincing again when she realized that even that hurt. _I must be really bad,_ she concluded, wondering if Grissom had already figured that out. _Of course he has, genius. He knows everything._

Grissom was silent. Sara could still feel his hand in her hair and she could hear the soft, even pattern of his breathing–and her own loud, uneven pattern. Her heart pounded in her chest and Sara was starting to believe that it would never slow down, that she would always be running this strange, bloody marathon. _I'm in shock,_ she reminded herself. She knew enough about shock to know exactly how serious it was and she knew Grissom was doing everything he could to bring her out of it. She also knew that shock was a direct result of internal injuries and she shuddered, now coming to terms with the fact that not all her cuts and bruises were visible.

Grissom was evidently on the same page, sharing Sara's nervous thoughts. When she finally turned back to face him, she could see it in his firm features. His mouth was drawn in a tight line and his chin twitched to one side, as if he were evaluating an impossible equation. His fingers were no longer stroking her hair. Instead, they now searched the bumps on Sara's head, finding the cuts hidden by her brown hair. Grissom had properly bandaged her forehead but the blood had already seeped through and he quickly applied another layer to the bandage, holding it down momentarily. "How–how much blood have I lost?" Sara asked weakly, meeting Grissom's gaze even though she knew he wouldn't be interested in telling her.

"Enough," he replied. For a second, Sara thought he might elaborate but instead, he pulled back the blanket and his hands moved to her light coat, quickly unzipping it.

"Hey–" Sara moaned. "Cold. Remember?"

"I know, Sara," said Grissom. "But this will only take a minute." With that, he switched on his flashlight and lifted her shirt before she had time to object. Sara could see the haunted look on his face when his eyes fell upon her bruises. She hadn't seen them herself, of course, but the extreme pain told her that they were extensive. Sara moaned as he checked her ribs, feeling for any breaks that could cause internal bleeding. _We have to find out some time,_ she thought in dismay, trying not to pass out from the new wave of pain. To keep her mind off of it, Grissom began to talk–telling her what he remembered from before the accident. Sara listened intently, focusing on his voice and fitting her memories into his to form a clear picture.

"_Sara?"_

_She opened her eyes slowly._

"_Sara?"_

_She yawned. "Yeah–sorry, Griss."_

_Grissom sighed softly from the driver's seat. "I didn't want to wake you but I need help with directions."_

_She smiled. "No problem." She stretched her arms and shifted in her seat. "How long was I asleep?" _

"_Only an hour and a half," Grissom replied, sounding almost disappointed. "But I'm glad you managed to get that much."_

"_Me too," admitted Sara, feeling light all of a sudden. She was touched by his concern. "Thanks," she whispered._

_Grissom continued to stare at the road ahead._

_Sara took a deep breath. "So where are we?" she asked, opening the file on her lap and pulling out the map. She unfolded it carefully before switching on the interior lights. Grissom informed her of their location while she studied their route._

"_I think I made a right turn when I should have gone left," admitted Grissom._

_Unable to resist, Sara flashed him a slight grin. "Ah," she replied. "So you're not perfect." _

_Grissom caught her smile in the corner of his eye and he smirked. "Not everyday."_

_Sara laughed lightly. "Well, you had me fooled," she joked, turning back to the map. She studied it again while they drove in silence."Yeah–I don't think this is right. We need to go back a couple miles," she finally declared._

_Grissom nodded. "And turn left?"_

"_I think that's the only other option, Griss." She paused. "Should I call the sheriff?"_

_Grissom shook his head. "No, I don't think we need to. We won't be able to get a signal anyway. Not until we get back to the main road."_

_Sara nodded, looking out the window. "Yeah, probably not. We're in the middle of nowhere," she agreed, turning off the light. Sara let her body sink back into the seat and she stared out the window, noting the miles of darkness ahead of them. The dirt road was narrow and rocky and every few feet, she felt a little jolt from the Tahoe as it hit a pothole. But she was relaxed, enjoying the peace and quiet and the fact that she was alone with Grissom. She gazed up at the stars in the sky, finally allowing herself some time to enjoy the wonders of nature. _

"_You warm enough?" came Grissom's voice. His fingers reached for the heat dial, adjusting the temperature slightly._

"_I'm fine." Sara continued to stare into the sky. "It's a beautiful night," she whispered softly."I don't think I've ever seen so many stars."_

"_Too many lights in Vegas," Grissom quickly replied. Then a smile grew on his face and he glowed."The middle of nowhere has its perks."_

_Sara sighed. "It does."_

"_Stargazing is very therapeutic," continued Grissom. "Clears your mind. Makes you examine your place and your purpose in the world."_

"_Are you speaking from experience or can you cite your source?" Sara asked, knowing very well that it was just plain common sense._

"_Experience."_

"_And where do you go to look at the stars?" Sara asked, turning to look at Grissom, amazed by their relaxed conversation. It had been quite awhile since they had been that comfortable around each other and their discussion was beyond refreshing._

_Grissom shrugged. "The desert. The planetarium."_

"_The planetarium?" Sara raised an eyebrow. "That's not the real thing." _

"_We can't always have the real thing," Grissom quietly pointed out._

_Sara pondered that thought, wondering if Grissom was trying to tell her something. She sighed. "Well, it doesn't hold a candle to the middle of nowhere, that's for sure."_

Sara found herself staring up at the stars again. She was practically weeping in pain by the time Grissom zipped up her coat and replaced the blanket. He tucked the edges around her, making sure that her entire body was covered and that her feet were still elevated properly. He took her hand into his for what seemed like the millionth time in only forty minutes and he held on tight, as if he would never let go. Sara searched his eyes uneasily. "What's the–the verdict?"

"Sara–" Grissom hesitated for half a second. "I'm going to be honest with you but you need to be honest with me too. Deal?"

Sara grimaced. "Deal."

"There's a lot of bruising," he began cautiously. "You do have a couple broken ribs. There's also one or two I'm not sure about so I don't have a definite total for you. I don't think you have a punctured lung but the second you have trouble breathing, I need to know about it." Grissom paused for a second. "Sara–you know as well as I do that internal bleeding is tricky. We can't know for sure. You're in shock but there's no reason to assume the worst right now. Okay?"

Sara fought back her tears."It's hard _not_ to–to assume the worst when your stuck–out–out here."

Grissom nodded. "I know but it'll be easier on you if we just stay positive." He reached for his cell phone and turned it on, again meeting the "No Signal" message. Sara groaned when she heard the familiar beep of the phone and sighing, Grissom turned it off, setting it aside. "Greg will be trying to get in touch," he explained. "I'm sure he has some results by now that he'll want to run by us. He'll be trying to phone us and when he can't get through, he'll contact the sheriff. He'll put two and two together, Sara."

Sara sighed. _Greg. He knows where we were going. He'll know that something's wrong._ Sara had to admit that she felt a little better–mentally. She looked up to give Grissom a forced, faint smile but it faded before it curved her lips. "Grissom," she squinted in the firelight. "You're still bleeding."

Reaching up to his face, Grissom wiped some blood away and shook his head. "Superficial," he replied. "Some glass from the window. It's fine."

Sara stared at the largest cut. "That one looks deep–deep enough," she stuttered. "If it's still bleeding than you–you probably should take care of it."

Grissom reluctantly released her hand and then looked through the first aid kit. He pulled out a small bandage and finding the cut with his fingers, he dabbed at the blood. He then returned to Sara's side, sitting down to stare at the fire. "Fixed," he declared, ready to refocus his attention on her.

_Fixed._ Sara felt sick again. If only _she_ could just be _fixed_ too. She stared at Grissom, watching as the flickering light from the fire cast shadows over his bearded face. She had never seen him like this before. He seemed so determined and confident yet so sad and maybe even a little afraid. That scared her beyond belief. But at the same time, his care and concern made her feel warm inside. Very warm.

TBC

Author's Note: Wow! Thank-you so much for the reviews for the last chapter! They really motivated me! Your kind words made my day! Special thanks to bythemoon, Teenwitch, Laura, Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc, gabesaunt, jbr12476, DolphinAnimagus, svcmc, rokothepas, CPDCSI, Courtney242, GeekLoveFan, Brelli, csicorrespondent, annieb, brainfear, Tavitha, Chicklit, Kimber McLeod, ScullyAsTrinity, bluesun-cor, CarbyluvYTDAW, xyber116, Leah2, alias101, Ming, guess19, A. Heiden, Jenny, lunar47 and anyone I missed! Thanks for your comments, I really appreciate them!

Thanks,

Jazz


	5. No Signal

'_No Signal'_

Clutching his cell phone tightly in his hand, Grissom sighed. His phone wasn't cooperating, Sara's vitals were barely cooperating and, as usual, his heart and his mind weren't cooperating with each other. Grissom's mind was hard at work, monitoring Sara's condition and assessing their predicament but everywhere he turned, he only saw Sara's bruises–and his heart took over. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the images of Sara's chest and stomach but the deep swirls of purple and red flashed through his brain. Soon, they would turn black and blue and Sara's skin would be completely transformed into a patchwork of harsh colours.

_She needs medical attention. Now._

Grissom wasn't any closer to formulating a plan. He was usually quite good at working himself out of tight situations. He had always been very determined and methodical. This plight, however, had him practically frozen in an unfamiliar fear. It was _Sara_ who needed him. She needed his help. She needed him to remain calm. She needed him to find a way out. Grissom shuddered, realizing that her life depended on his actions. The pressure was more than intense but he tried to think constructively, knowing that he had to. But he couldn't focus.

_The bruises. _

His brain just wouldn't release the shocking images. Every time his mind wandered, even a little, he ended up back in the same spot–seeing the colours, seeing her pain. Grissom almost wished he hadn't looked but at least he now knew what he was dealing with.Sara's ribs were an absolute mess and he had almost been sick when he felt the damage under his fingers. Her right side was the worst. From Sara's injuries and from the damage to the Tahoe, it was evident that the passenger side had absorbed most of the impact. Grissom still couldn't remember exactly how it happened. Not yet at least. His memories were muddled and his mind was occupied.

"Any luck with–with the phone?" Sara asked, her weak, wavering voice breaking into Grissom's trance. He looked down at her pale face and he finally managed to shove the memory of her bruises aside, now concerning himself with her ghostly appearance.

"Not yet." Grissom studied their surroundings, shaking his head in dismay. _Where the hell are we?_

"We–we won't get a signal here, Griss," Sara whispered sadly.

Grissom gave her a confident look, deciding to be optimistic. "The area is pretty open. There aren't too many trees. There's a chance." He stood up, pacing the area around their bonfire while fiddling with the power button on the phone. He returned a few minutes later, his confidence fading by the second.

"How far were we?"

Grissom stopped. "From where?"

Sara cleared her throat and spoke again through uneasy breaths. "How far were–were we from the–the main road?"

"I don't think we were too far out."

Sara shut her eyes tightly, trying again to recall the events. "We went right," she sighed. "And we–we should have gone left. We started back. I remember that."

Grissom nodded. "We're probably a couple miles away." He sat down, scanning Sara's body again with his eyes. He felt so helpless, holding his useless cell phone and staring at her, unable to take her pain away. _Sara can't be moved,_ he told himself. _And she certainly can't be left alone._ Searching for the main road was not an option and Grissom had no choice but to sit there and watch her suffer. _Punishment,_ he thought._ I'm being punished for the way I've treated her the last few years._ He paused, disgusted with his train of thought. _Stop thinking about yourself._

"So what–what was Greg processing when we left?" Sara asked, looking up at Grissom. She seemed to understand that they would just have to be patient–as patient as possible. But her fear was evident, nevertheless.

"Clothing. A pair of jeans and a sweater found near the creek."

"The victim's?"

Grissom's eyes widened. As weak as she was, Sara was shifting into work mode–and he had no trouble believing it. "You really are a workaholic, you know that?"

Sara chuckled weakly. "Takes one to know one, Grissom."

Grissom smiled gently and his tone softened. "Keeps your mind off the pain?"

"Yeah," Sara whispered, her face somber. "It helps."

Happy to be able to help in some way, Grissom described the evidence to Sara, filling her in on the instructions he left for Greg. Grissom had a hard time believing that his conversation with the younger man had only taken place a few hours earlier–it seemed now as if it were a lifetime ago.

_Grissom stopped at the locker room door, paper bag in hand. "Greg."_

"_Grissom," Greg replied, sliding a clean sock onto his left foot._

"_I'm glad I found you."_

_Greg squinted his eyes. "Should **I** be glad that you found me?"_

_Ignoring Greg's comment, Grissom looked down at his watch. "Shift starts in five minutes."_

"_I know that–I was just changing my socks."_

"_Well, I'm going to need those five minutes to brief you on your assignment." Grissom held out the large bag, a small smile on his face._

"_You come bearing gifts," Greg realized, his eyes wide. "Does this pertain to the case?" He smirked. "Or did you just realize that you missed my birthday?"_

"_The case, Greg."_

_Greg grinned. "I heard about the DB in the creek upstate. Catherine's pissed that she didn't get it."_

_Grissom shrugged. "Swing is backlogged. They were all working solo today."_

"_Ah, that explains it."_

"_I need you here tonight, Greg." He pointed to the bag. "I need these processed as soon as possible–and there's more coming."_

_Greg pretended to be hurt. "You mean I don't get to go on the road trip?" _

"_Not this time. Your expertise is needed here."_

"_But I've been out in the field for months now. You gotta give me a stab at some of the hot cases."_

"_Relax. You're as much a part of this case as I am." Grissom handed him the paper bag. "From the sheriff."_

"_Of Nottingham?"_

_Grissom didn't answer that. Instead, he turned toward the door. "Sara and I will be there in a couple hours. My phone will be on. I want to know the minute you have those processed."_

_Greg nodded. "I'm on it, Grissom."_

"_The county sheriff's number is on my desk in case you need it."_

"_Sounds good."_

"_We'll be in touch." With that, Grissom hurried down the hall._

Grissom shook his head grimly. _Greg, you better figure this out fast,_ he silently muttered. _Or you'll be back in the lab faster than you can say CODIS. _He would have chuckled at that thought but he didn't have the energy and with Sara lying on the ground, still shaking in pain, _nothing_ was even remotely funny. Nothing at all.In fact, nothing else even mattered.

Grissom closed his eyes tightly, praying that this was all some horrible nightmare. He prayed that when he opened his eyes, the dark landscape would just disappear and he would find himself sitting in his office with Sara sitting across from him, smiling brightly.Or even better–Sara closer to him, sitting on the couch in the break room, discussing an intriguing case or her growing interest in entomology–or anything. As long as they were safe. Happy. Healthy.Grissom opened his eyes slowly, knowing very well what he would find but he allowed himself to entertain the dream anyway.

"Hey," Sara's whisper seemed distant. "You okay?"

Grissom cleared his throat and nodded. It seemed funny that _she _was asking that question. Grissom smiled for her, hoping that she would stop worrying about him."I was just thinking," he told her softly, turning away before she could ask him to elaborate. He stared at the fire, quickly changing the subject. "Are you any warmer?" He reached over to place the back of his hand against her cheek. Her skin was still cool under his careful touch.

"A little," Sara replied. As if on cue, a shiver jolted her body, betraying her words. She closed her eyes against the pain that accompanied the involuntary movement. "Well–well I guess not," she groaned through gritted teeth.

"It's the shock," Grissom told her, his voice low. Sara opened her eyes slowly and Grissom found himself staring deeply into them yet again._ She has beautiful eyes,_ he thought to himself, feeling odd as he admired them. It wasn't the first time he had done so but it was the first time he allowed himself to think about it. He almost panicked as a wave of curious emotion swept through him and he almost forgot that his hand was still on her cheek. Grissom was suddenly tempted to pull away–but he didn't.

"I _feel_ warmer, Griss."

_Me too. _Grissom said silently, his eyes projecting his tender thoughts_. You're going to be fine, honey. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're safe with me. Always. _Grissom let out a long breath, trying to believe himself and hoping that Sara might gain some strength from his sensitive stare._ If only I could tell her. _But he couldn't. He had never been able to before.

Sara coughed, wincing a little but never breaking eye contact. "Grissom,"she whispered, a little bit of red flushing her pale cheeks. Her lips quivered slightly and her chin trembled but she didn't say anything else. Without thinking, Grissom rested his other hand on her forehead, his fingers carefully brushing away a loose strand of her brown hair. Surprised by his own actions, Grissom listened to his heart pound, wondering why he couldn't turn away. _This isn't appropriate,_ he thought wildly. _Not here. Not now._ He let himself stare into Sara's eyes for a few more seconds before pulling back slowly, quickly dismissing his actions as a simple attempt to comfort her.

_Comfort. Yes. That's all it was._

Sara didn't seem to be reading too much into it but Grissom could sense her confusion. _Could be the concussion,_ he thought. Then he rolled his eyes. _Of course it isn't. She knows this game as well as I do. _Grissom felt a twinge of guilt, realizing that she was in no condition to have to deal with his issues. _I don_'_t know what to do about this._ Grissom cringed at the memory and he was certain that Sara remembered those words too. He saw it in her eyes every day.

"You sure you're okay?" Sara asked again.

Grissom caught his breath and sighed. "I'm fine," he assured her. "You don't need to worry about me."_You have enough to worry about. _He turned back to her cautiously, noting how she followed his movements, blinking nervously.He didn't really know what had just happened. There had been a momentary connection in their gaze but he had allowed it to fade away, like he always did._ Stay safe,_ he reminded himself. _You'll only hurt her. She's in enough pain as it is._

Sara licked her dry lips and grimaced, bringing Grissom back into reality. "Blood," she muttered. "I can taste it."

Grissom felt as if the wind had been kicked out of him. "Blood?" he repeated, trying to hide his alarm. "Sara–are you coughing up blood?" His mind reeled. _She promised to be honest with me!_

Looking slightly alarmed herself, Sara shook her head, being careful not to move too much. "No," she quickly replied. "I–I don't think so." She thought for a moment. "A cut," she announced weakly. "In my mouth."

Grissom found that he could breathe again. Relieved, he reached for the water bottle that he had retrieved from the Tahoe. "How's your stomach? Do you think you can handle some water?"

"I–I think so."

Grissom loosened the cap. "You're not nauseous?"

"Not right now."

Grissom hesitated for a second before putting his hand behind Sara's head. He helped her up, just a little, raising her head until he heard her hiss in pain. "Okay, no further," he said, stating the obvious. He raised the bottle to Sara's lips, tipping it carefully. "Only take a little," he cautioned. "Just enough to rinse your mouth and wet your throat." Grissom knew that she wasn't yet in danger of dehydration and too much water could upset her stomach. If she got sick again, it could aggravate any internal injuries and it would definitely cause her more pain.

The water spilled a little, dripping down Sara's chin but she managed to take in just enough before Grissom took the bottle away, capping and stashing it in the rather large first aid kit. "Better," she whispered, her voice small and husky in the night air. She lay back, her head stopping to rest on Grissom's knee. He pulled his hand away, letting her stay there, searching her face to see if she was comfortable. Sara's eyes closed and for a second, she almost looked peaceful.

"Sara?"

"Griss," she mumbled. "Resting my–my eyes."

"Hold on a second." Noticing that Sara was too weak to move any further, Grissom slowly extended his legs, guiding Sara's rather limp form with them and positioning her head on his thigh. _Probably not a good idea,_ his conscience warned, but his desire to see her safe and comfortable triumphed. He would do anything–absolutely anything–to help her. "Is this okay?" he asked timidly. Sara's eyes remained closed and Grissom spoke loudly. "Sara? You still with me?"

"Tired again."

"That's normal with a head injury." Grissom reminded her. Sara's eyelids fluttered. "I know you want to sleep, Sara but you need to stay conscious."

Sara forced her eyes back open. "I know," she sighed. She let her head fall slightly, so that her cheek rested against Grissom's leg. He helped her settle into her new position, noting that she seemed a little more relaxed. Her breathing was shallow but relatively even and Grissom was relieved to see that her forehead was no longer bleeding. She seemed a little better–on the outside. But inside–that was another story.

Grissom's heartbeat thundered in his ears as he anxiously flipped his phone open again, turning it on.He looked down at Sara and then he looked at the illuminated display, his eyes meeting the flashing message.

'_No Signal'_

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: I am so sorry about the delay in posting this chapter! School is crazy right now! The next update shouldn't be long though! I hope you're all still reading! Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. Special thanks to ScullyAsTrinity (thank-you so much for the recommendation–it means a lot!), svcmc, Billy4Me, djkittycat, Brelli, csmit99, AngelApple70x7, brainfear, Courtney242, ddmc, Teenwitch, rachel, Naquada, Gracee, rokothepas, maria, bythemoon, Ming, QueenKate, CarbyluvYTDAW, Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc, Lifeguard, Leah2, gnosos, quigles, Chicklit, nick and anyone I missed! 

Jazz


	6. Stay Home

_I'm sleeping with my eyes open. _

Sara almost giggled._ That's a first._ If it hadn't been for the excruciating pain in every part of her body, Sara would have assumed that she was asleep. Nothing seemed real, after all. She was just _there_, shivering in the darkness. It was almost as if she were trapped in one of her twisted dreams, permanently cold and unable to break free. Perhaps she would wake up sometime soon, tangled in her messy mountain of sheets, all alone. That would be normal. Sara blinked. _But this isn't normal and I'm not dreaming._

_I'm awake in a nightmare._

Sara groaned, realizing that she was having trouble concentrating. She stared up at Grissom, watching his mouth and his eyes move, listening to the gentle tone of his voice. She knew that he was talking about something important, something that had to do with work but for some reason, she couldn't understand what he was saying. That frustrated her. She _wanted _to listen but her brain wouldn't let her. Instead, Sara found herself searching her memories, still trying to figure out why she was lost in the dark, with her head on Grissom's leg and her heart pounding. She could remember everything _but_ the accident. She remembered that night, before shift, making supper all alone in her apartment. She also remembered driving to work and having to stop at every light. They were all red. Every damn one of them. _It was probably a sign,_ Sara grumbled to herself. _Only danger and heartache ahead. Stay home._

Grissom's voice cut through the haze. "Come on, Sara. Focus."

Sara sighed._ Leave me alone, Griss. Even a workaholic is allowed to take some time off! The lights told me to stay home. I should have listened. _She sighed and then grimaced, suddenly remembering that her weekly horoscope had offered the same advice. She had memorized it at her kitchen table that evening.

_Virgo _

_(August 23rd to September 22nd) _

_Feeling the pressure this week?_

_You've been putting in extra _

_time at work this past month_

_and you deserve some time off. _

_Stay home and put your feet up,_

_Virgo! You need a break from _

_your hectic work schedule and it's_

_time for you to relax. Spend an_

_entire day pampering yourself._

_Your tired body will thank you!_

_So it was written in the stars too! _Sara would have laughed at all the irony but she was too tired and she was too busy trying to pull herself out of her daze.Grissom was getting impatient now, his voice becoming louder and louder while his hand squeezed the feeling right out of her fingers.The extra pressure was enough and Sara found herself spiralling back into her painful reality, her eyes sharpening immediately."Sorry, Griss," she whispered, shaking her head slightly. "I was just–just trying to remember."

Grissom nodded compassionately and then he continued to prod her. "Keep talking to me, Sara," He pressed urgently on her shoulder, his touch light but firm.

"Sure," she mumbled._ Sure, I can do that._ "But unless there's more to tell me a–about the case, then–then we need a new topic."

"A new topic," Grissom repeated. He immediately thought about it and Sara could almost see his mind at work. She wondered what kind of _safe_ topics he would come up with. _It's not like either of us can handle anything deep. To head down that road would only be asking for more trouble. _Sara sighed._ Or would it?_

"Tell me about–" Grissom's forehead wrinkled. "About, uh–"

_About what, Grissom?_ He had never been any good at this sort of thing. When Grissom was working a case and giving orders, his words seemed to come naturally but at all other times, and especially when _she_ was talking to him, he seemed to fight for every syllable. One look at his face and Sara knew that he had no idea what to say. Swallowing her fear, she cleared her throat, ready to help him out.

"I had soup for dinner," she muttered.

"Soup?" Grissom looked slightly surprised by her comment but he smiled softly, clearly relieved. "Let me guess. Vegetable?"

Sara managed a wobbly grin. "Yeah. With–with a whole pasta alphabet in it."

"Appetizing _and_ educational. I approve."

"Well, that's a relief."

Grissom smiled at her weak sarcasm. "Good," he replied. "What else did you have?"

"Water."

"And?"

Sara bit her trembling lower lip. "More water?"

Grissom studied her face and sighed. _Yes, Griss,_ Sara grumbled to herself. _I know that I don't eat enough. But it's not like it matters now. _She pushed those thoughts away quickly, feeling Grissom's hand on her forehead. Carefully, he wiped away the sweat that had started to form near her hairline–the result of her nerves and the intense heat of the fire. Sara was feeling warm and she tried to ignore the distressing fact that her skin, however, was still ice cold. _That just can't be right,_ she thought. _I shouldn't be hot and cold at the same time. _Then her eyelids closed and she remembered. _Shock. I hate shock. And concussions. I hate them too._

She felt a light tap on her cheek. "Stay with me, Sara."

Sara opened her eyes and swallowed, forcing a heavy lump back down her throat. "What did _you_ have for–for dinner, Griss?"

"Chicken," he answered quickly, as if he'd been rehearsing. "Barbecued chicken, some mixed vegetables and a glass of wine." He paused. "At least that's what I remember."

"Mixed vegetables," Sara said faintly. "I approve. The–the chicken? Not so much." That earned her a momentary grin.

"And the wine?" Grissom prompted.

Sara had trouble concentrating on that question. "Wine," she whispered. "You had wine?"

"Yes, I did." Concern swept through Grissom's eyes and Sara found herself instantly confused. _Did he already say that he had wine? Yes. He did say that. I just chose to forget it._

"Right," Sara whispered, a hint of sadness in her voice. She took a shallow breath."Wine. You have–have wine with dinner all the time?" _Of course, I would be the last person to know. _"Or is it only, for, uh, for special occasions?"

Pain quickly replaced the concern in Grissom's eyes and Sara cringed, watching as he tried to shrug off her words. He got the message. Loud and clear. "I was alone, Sara" he said, his voice quiet. "Sometimes I like to have wine with my meals." He turned away from her then, reaching forward slightly to add another twig to their bonfire. Sara felt a new surge of tears sting her eyes–tears of relief and regret. She was still upset and confused about the dinner invitation he had declined so long ago but she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. She gritted her teeth against both the physical and mental pain. _Why did you ask, Sidle? Why do you always over talk?_

"Grissom," she breathed, lifting her sluggish arm to touch his coat. When her fingers grasped Grissom's elbow, he looked down to face her again and she stared up at him tearfully."That–that was awkward, I, uh, I'm–" She might have said more but she started to gasp, feeling her chest tighten._ Serves you right,_ she thought as another wave of pain surged through her body.

"Hey," Grissom said gently, bringing his hands back to cradle her head. "Just try to relax, okay?" If he was at all upset by what Sara had implied, he didn't show it. Any evidence of emotion was suddenly gone and Grissom was all business again, leaning closer to her head to look into her eyes and listen to her breathing. "Slow down," he told her, and Sara nodded, heaving a fitful sigh.

"I'm fine," she assured him. _Let's just keep on avoiding our issues. We're both so damn good at that, Grissom._ Sara slowed her breathing and she calmed a bit, wondering why she let herself get upset. _Just stop thinking._

"Harder to breathe?" Grissom asked, his eyes searching Sara's for the truth.

_Yeah. But it's harder to **think, **_Sara noted to herself. "It–it was for a second," she admitted. "It's okay now."

"How does your chest feel?"

"Tight. Hurts." She had to be honest. She had promised him that she would be, after all. Her winces and whimpers were more frequent now, so it didn't make any sense to lie. He wouldn't believe her. Not for a second.

He nodded. "Hang in there, Sara. You're doing great." Grissom's face was fairly visible in the firelight and from Sara's position on his thigh, she could see the reassurance in his gaze. She could tell that he'd been expecting her answer and that he was prepared to deal with it. She could also tell that he knew exactly how this would all end if help didn't arrive soon enough. _Help will come soon though,_ Sara told herself. Then, she shuddered. _It will. Right? Stop thinking! Stop it, stop it, stop it!_

"It's been about an–an hour now," Sara groaned. "Right, Griss?"

"Almost."

"I still don't remember."

Grissom shook his head. "That's okay. I still don't remember much either."

"I'm–I'm not sure I _want_ to,"she whispered.

Grissom nodded in agreement, brushing her cheek softly with timid fingers."Part of me feels that way too, Sara."

For a minute, Sara let herself enjoy the feeling of Grissom's hand against her cheek. His fingers stroked her cold skin lightly and Sara bit her lip, trying not to lose herself completely in his gentle touch. Only a little while earlier, Grissom had done the same thing but Sara, despite her fuzzy consciousness, had been almost certain that it was just to comfort her. Now, she wasn't sure–and she was too tired and too nervous to think about it in great detail. But she _did_ enjoy it and she felt herself relax again, knowing that in some way, he really did care about her. _Hmmmm what were we talking about? Oh yeah–the accident. Memories. _

Sara smiled weakly. "It's ironic."

"Ironic?"

"We spend every night try–trying to figure out what happened to people, how things went down, but when–when it's us, we'd rather ignore the evidence."

Grissom shrugged. "The truth is usually hard to face, Sara. Even for us."

Sara sighed. **_Especially_** _for us._ Cringing, she began to search her mind, repeating what she already knew. "I remember the headlights and–and I remember panicking." She paused. "And flying. It felt like–like I was flying. But I was stuck."

"There might not be much more _to_ remember," Grissom replied. "Most of the impact was on your side of the vehicle. You probably lost consciousness before you had any time to think."

_Headlights. Impact. _Sara winced. "We–we couldn't have been hit by another car, Griss. There's nothing else here." Sara let her eyes wander for just a second but she couldn't see anything in the dark. She couldn't even see the Tahoe from her position. She wondered why Grissom wasn't already processing the scene, searching for skid marks on the road and photographing their damaged vehicle. She wondered if it was because their cameras were broken. Or perhaps it was because he really _didn't_ want to know what happened. Or maybe, by some miracle, she was more important than his work this time. She shook her head at that thought. It didn't seem likely. _You're hurt,_ she reminded herself. _He can't leave you or he'll feel bad. Yes, that's the reason. That's all it is._

Grissom looked down at her hesitantly, taking a deep breath. "There _was_ another car, Sara. We swerved. But I'm afraid that's where my mind goes blank. For now."

Sara peered up at him in surprise. "How–how long were you out?"

"Not long."

_Would he tell me if he was hurt? Probably not._ Sara's chin quivered. "Are you sure you're okay, Grissom? You're not–"

He shook his head. "I'm not hurt," he told her firmly. "I have a headache and my arm hurts a little. That's it." Sara's eyes begged for more information and Grissom took a breath, letting it out slowly. "I was lucky. I don't have a concussion. I was just disoriented for a few minutes."

"Dis–disoriented?"

Grissom nodded. "Couldn't remember where I was." His fingers froze on her cheek and he lowered his voice to a faint whisper. "I forgot you were with me."

"You forgot?" Sara's eyes widened when she saw the concern and regret in Grissom's eyes. She didn't think it was possible but she was sure that her heart started to beat even faster. _Was he scared? Is he blaming himself for this?_

"You were unconscious. There was no noise at all. I wasn't sure if you were–" He stopped, licking his lips nervously before pasting a smile on his face. "You gave me quite a scare."

_He **was** scared. So what does that mean? _Sara's heart and mind were now racing each other, both moving so fast that Sara wasn't sure if she would ever regain control. "How long was _I_ out?"

"Just over ten minutes."

She let out an erratic, breathless chuckle. "Ten minutes? I've had naps shor–shorter than that."

"I don't doubt it."

Sara smiled softly but she didn't reply. Instead, she slowly lifted her arm, using all of her strength to reach up to her forehead. She felt around the thick bandage that was taped there, inhaling sharply when her fingers applied too much pressure in the wrong place. The quick intake of air caused another intense pain in her chest. "Oh God," she cried out, leaning hard against Grissom's leg.

"Don't touch it, Sara," Grissom said. He quickly grabbed her fingers, pulling them away from her deep cut. He guided her arm back down to the ground and then he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her retreat into his comforting embrace. Sara wasn't able to move much but she did manage to push herself up a little and she allowed her head to fall back into Grissom's hands. She almost gasped when his hands guided her head further into his lap. _Is he really okay with this?_ she wondered, her eyes growing wider. She didn't bother contemplating that for much longer because Grissom answered the question for her. He steadied her head in his lap but his arms didn't leave her trembling body. Instead, he kept them wrapped around her, holding her close to him. "Better?" he asked, giving her a nervous glance.

_Better? Are you kidding? _In her surprise, it took Sara a minute to realize that she felt _physically_ better as well. The position he held her in relieved the pressure in her chest and allowed her to breathe more comfortably. She wasn't sure how it worked, but she didn't care. Her body didn't feel as broken in Grissom's arms and that was all that mattered.

Staring up at him, Sara found her words again. "I'm–I'm good, Griss," she said softly. She gave him a genuine but very weak smile, hoping to let him know how much his embrace meant to her."This is better. Much better."

"Good."

Sara wanted to just close her eyes and relax into Grissom's protective arms. This was the closest she had ever been to him and she desperately wanted to let herself feel more than grateful. But she fought her emotions and held herself back. For the first time in five years, just being with Grissom was enough and the fact that he was holding her so closely made her feel safe before anything else. Whether he was her boss, her teacher, her friend, her soul-mate–or everything–it didn't really matter in that moment. She just didn't want him to let go. Ever.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the delay again! But I'm hoping you'll forgive me because the next chapter is almost ready and it should only be a couple days before it's posted! So I hope to make it up to you! Thanks again for all the feedback. I'm so grateful for all the support and the suggestions. It's wonderful–thanks! 

Special thanks to: gabesaunt, svcmc, Billy4me (thanks to all three of you for reviewing so often. I always look forward to your comments! They mean a lot!) marymay2012 (thanks!), djkittycat (lol–thanks for the suggestion! I never thought about road flares but look for them in the next chapter ;) ) guess19 (thanks!), Camilla Sandman (hey-welcome aboard and thanks!), DolphinAnimagus and Teenwitch (you're both so lovely! Thanks for all the feedback!), Leah2 (this chapter is a bit longer! I hope you like it! Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying the story!), Lin (don't worry–Sara's my favourite and I'm very protective of her ;) ), Rouch (I really appreciate your review and thanks for understanding. This is a busy time of year!), Courtney242 and brainfear (thanks for sticking with me–both of you! And I'm sure you DO have a life brainfear! I look forward to seeing fics updated too!), CSI-FanForLive (welcome! Hope you enjoy!), CSINut214 (thanks for your review! I'm REALLY enjoying Roses in December by the way! Great job!), nick55 (Aw, you're sweet. I'll push the creative flow and get the next chapter up fast!), c.roy, Gracee and LSI (thank-you, thank-you, thank-you), CarbyluvYTDAW (I'm so glad you liked the last chapter! I'm glad that came off as sweet/adorable! I was hoping it would), Shannon, Debbie and Lil (Thanks for your feedback and I am so glad you're all enjoying it) Almeida's-Angel24 (thanks for your detailed review! I'm glad you like the internal dialogue because it's very fun to write!) Okay that was A LOT of thank-you's but you've all been wonderful for taking the time to encourage me and to help me improve my story!

Jazz


	7. A Snowstorm In July

_I remember._

Grissom groaned inwardly. His memories had been slow coming but they were back now and they were tormenting his soul. He hadn't told Sara that he remembered–in fact, he had lied to her about it only a little while earlier and he felt horrible about it. _I made her promise to be honest with me, and I haven't been honest with her. I'm such a hypocrite!_

But the memories were still too painful to share and Grissom was having a hard time dealing with them himself. It was all so very vivid in his mind. He could see the harsh, bright headlights bearing down on the Tahoe, he could feel the aching pain in his wrist from when he slammed his hand against the horn and, worst of all, he could hear Sara's frightened cries. Grissom could hear her shouting his name, over and over again and it haunted him. He cringed, trying to lock away that one particular memory. He'd been trying to forget it ever since he remembered those terrifying moments but he wasn't having much luck. It just replayed relentlessly in his mind, until he could remember every single detail about those few minutes before everything spun out of control.

_Grissom guided the Tahoe along the rough road, taking each bend with caution. His bright headlights were on, illuminating the narrow path right ahead of them, and easing the strain on Grissom eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he stole a quick glance at Sara, who had been staring out the window for over five minutes, breathing deeply, evenly._

"_You okay, Sara?" Grissom asked, wondering why she was so quiet all of a sudden._

"_Hmmmm?" _

_The vehicle hit yet another deep hole in the dirt, jolting Sara out of her reverie. "Sorry," Grissom said quickly, when she spun around to face him._

_Sara smiled tiredly. "It's okay." She yawned, shaking herself back into reality. "I zoned out. What were we talking about?"_

"_Stargazing."_

"_Right. I think I ended up doing that," Sara replied, laughing lightly._

_Grissom nodded. "It would be hard not to on a night like this."_

"_Yeah but I'm such an amateur," she admitted. "I could only find the Little Dipper."_

"_Well, you can't be good at everything, Sara. It takes time."_

_She blushed. "I'm patient–usually."_

"_Being in a moving vehicle doesn't exactly facilitate the experience either."_

"_True."_

_Grissom took a deep breath."If we had more time, I'd stop and teach you some strategies."_

_Sara bit her lip. "You would?" She seemed surprised, her voice very quiet, very soft._

_Grissom nodded but he remained silent. His heart started to speed at the sight of Sara's glowing, rose-coloured cheeks and he wondered what she thought about his offer. He wasn't even sure what he meant by it, really. But he did know that it seemed like a wonderful idea and he smiled to himself. "Hopefully we'll see more nights like this when it's warmer," he said softly._

_Sara looked down at her hands, bending her fingers nervously. "Yeah–that would be–" she paused, clearing her throat to keep her voice from shaking. "That would be nice."_

_Grissom gave the Tahoe a little more gas. "We're running late," he said, changing the topic before Sara could notice his own flushed cheeks._

"_They'll understand."_

_Grissom knew she was right. He eased off the gas pedal, noticing that the road was becoming even rockier. He remembered that particular part of the path from awhile earlier and he realized that they were still a couple miles away from the main road. "Shouldn't be too much longer," he said. "Then we'll be back on track."_

"_I've got the map ready," Sara told him. "We can double check our location before we head the other way."_

_Noting the number of trees and boulders that lined the road, Grissom found himself squinting his eyes, trying to get a better view of what was ahead. "That sounds like a good idea," he replied, grimacing. "Everything's starting to look the same out here." _

"_At least there aren't **too** many trees," Sara thought out loud. _

_A flash of light momentarily caught Grissom's attention. "We might be closer than I remember," he told Sara. _

"_Really?"_

_He nodded. "Saw a light ahead. Just for a second."_

"_Could it be another car?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow. "In the middle of nowhere?"_

_Grissom shrugged. "Could be."_

_The light came again, filtering through the trees, and this time, Sara saw it too. "Doesn't look too far away," she mused._

_Grissom agreed and he slowed down just as the road curved in between a few trees and a larger slab of rock, towering many feet into the air. Grissom took the sharp turn carefully, hearing the small stones from the road slap against the bottom of the Tahoe. Rounding the rock face, Grissom and Sara both saw the light again–but this time, it came in a steady, bright beam._

_And the beam was coming straight for them. Rapidly._

"_Headlights–" Grissom muttered loudly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He forced the Tahoe over onto the side of the road, as far as he could go without hitting the trees that lined their side of the path. But the light was speeding towards them and the road was too narrow._

_Sara was frozen in her seat. "He doesn't see us, Grissom!" she managed to gasp out. "He doesn't–"_

_His heart pounding, Grissom slammed his left fist on the horn and stepped on the gas pedal._

"_Grissom!"_

"Grissom." Sara's strained voice jolted Grissom out of his painful memory. He looked down at her weak, bruised body and he felt sick. She trembled in his arms. _Reality isn't much better._

"Sorry," Grissom replied, trying to separate himself from his memories and finding it difficult. "I zoned out, I guess. What were we talking about?"

"You–you were saying something about flares."

Grissom nodded. "Road flares."

"In the–the Tahoe."

There was a little bit of hope in Sara's eyes and Grissom smiled at her in encouragement. Inside, however, he felt his whole body sizzle with anger. His memories had been flooding back steadily and he found himself remembering not only the accident but also that there were certain items still in the crumpled Tahoe that would be of assistance to them. There were road flares in the back of the vehicle and a small package of Tylenol in his glove compartment. He had removed the small package from his first aid kit a few weeks earlier when one of his headaches threatened to become a full blown migraine. He knew the pills wouldn't do much for Sara but he thought they might help a little, perhaps dull the pain for a little while. Grissom clenched his teeth in anger, ready to kick himself for not thinking of those essential items before.

"Will you be okay for a few minutes?" Grissom asked Sara, his tight hold on her shoulders indicating that he would rather do anything but leave her.

"I'll be–" She coughed uncomfortably. "I'll be fine."

"Alright," he told her, nodding reluctantly. He gently lowered her shoulders from his lap to the ground and, after scrambling up onto his knees and checking to make sure Sara's feet were still properly elevated on his field kit, he made his way over to the Tahoe. With Sara no longer in his arms, Grissom felt as if he wasn't doing his job properly. He now felt an overwhelming need to protect her, to hold her, to know that she was safe. He needed to know that _she _knew that she was safe._ It's selfish,_ Grissom told himself, as he retrieved the flares and the Tylenol. _I shouldn't need to feel anything right now. _

After placing the flares strategically around the accident site, Grissom returned to Sara's side. He helped her take the pills and then wasted no time before gathering her into his embrace. Together, they both listened to the hissing flares and they talked, for forty-five minutes straight, about food and horoscopes, about bugs and police scanners, about Greg's eclectic taste in music and his specialty coffees, and about other _safe_ things. Then, they discussed, with a considerable amount of caution, their feeling about the shift split, both of them admitting how much they missed their colleagues, their _friends._ When Sara's face twisted during their careful conversation, Grissom knew that it wasn't only from the pain, and that they were hovering over a very fine line. They were getting closer and closer to the words that _really _needed to be said–words that Grissom was almost _sure_ he'd never be able to say. He took a deep breath, forcing his heart to stay on the safe side of the line. _She's scared and she's in pain. I can't tell her how I feel,_ Grissom thought wildly. _How unfair would that be?_ He closed his eyes for just a second. _How would I even begin to tell her?_

Grissom opened his eyes to find Sara looking up at him questioningly, her deep brown eyes bearing into his with an intensity that he didn't expect to see. Grissom was suddenly aware that she was reading his mind, a skill she'd mastered shortly after they first met more than ten years earlier. He had always been able to read her's too and now, he found himself reading right into her soul. _She knows._ A chill ran through his spine. _She knows I'm afraid–of everything._

"What should we talk a–about now, Griss?" Sara asked, her blinking eyes hinting at him to speak.

Grissom felt his whole body stiffen."I'm not sure," he whispered nervously.

"There has to–to be _something_ we haven't talked about yet."

_Something? _Grissom sighed._ We still have **everything** to talk about, Sara._ But he knew that she knew that–she had made that clear when she asked him about the wine."I'm sure there is," he replied, forcing a smile onto his face. Sara's eyelids fluttered in response.

"I really need to–to sleep," she sighed.

"Well, I need you to stay awake," Grissom said firmly. "We'll find something interesting to talk about, don't worry."

Sara seemed angry. "Oh come–come on, Griss. This could go–go on forever," she mumbled forcefully. "They–they should be here by now. Some–one should be here for us."

_She's getting upset. Not good._ Grissom could feel the increasing tightness in Sara's small frame and he immediately wondered if she had felt him go tense too. He had been trying so hard to keep her from panicking but he hadn't been paying much attention to his own weary, restless body. She was laying right there in his arms, probably feeling his fear–and he hadn't thought of it. _It's me. **I'm** scaring her,_ he realized, his stomach jumping into his throat. _How can I expect her to relax when I can't do it? Great, I'm a double hypocrite._

Grissom tried to calm himself, knowing that he couldn't afford to let his emotions get the better of him. "Sara–they're coming," he told her, letting his shoulders relax a bit. "It's only been two hours. They have to notice that we're missing before they start to look."

Sara spat out a few words between painful wheezes. "_Only_–two–hours?"

"I know how you feel," he said softly. "It seems like it's been a lot longer."

"You _don't_ know how I–how I feel," she whispered, huddling even closer to him, seeking the safety of his embrace.

Grissom nodded his apology. _She's right. I have no idea how she feels–physically._ He kept his arms firmly wrapped around her, cradling her upper body carefully, knowing that she needed more than his comfort–she needed his confidence. He was silent as he examined the changing expressions on Sara's pale face. She wasn't angry; she was absolutely terrified.

"It could take all–all night for them to find us," Sara sighed, her fingers clutching at Grissom's coat. She fought with her eyelids again, barely maintaining control over them. "Can't–can't stay awake that long."

"It won't take that long, honey."

"How–how do you know?"

Grissom ignored her question, noticing that Sara's breaths were becoming very erratic. She winced at every gasp, her eyes growing wide. _Keep her calm,_ he reminded himself. _You can't let her panic. _She had already gotten upset once and Grissom wasn't about to sit there and let it happen again. He had already forfeited so much control. "Sara–" Grissom grasped her chin. "Sara, listen to me."

She nodded, her frightened eyes meeting his. "I'm lis–listening."

"They _will_ find us," he told her, keeping his voice stable, serious. "And you need to stay calm until they do."

She nodded again, panting. "I'm okay, Griss."

But her eyes didn't tell the same story.

Grissom squeezed her shoulder gently. _She's so scared. I've never seen her so scared._ Sara had never been one to admit when she was afraid. She had always been so strong and stubborn and Grissom was used to that. He wasn't used to seeing her so vulnerable and it broke his heart to see her try to hide it, even though he was trying to do the same thing. She was moaning and trying desperately to look away but Grissom held her chin firmly, making her focus on him. "You need to slow your breathing,"he said, keeping the emotion out of his voice.

Sara gritted her teeth and sighed, fearfully acknowledging the fact that she was in distress. Her eyelids fluttered again. "My heart won't stop pounding," she whispered weakly. "Hurts."

Grissom rested two fingers on her neck, feeling her pulse. He counted the rapid beats against the time on his watch while Sara searched his face nervously. _One hundred and twenty-six. Dammit._ Her heart was beating way too fast. Sara was slipping further into shock and her increasing panic was only making everything worse. _Calm her down. Now._

"Sara." Grissom's voice was stern in his own building panic. "You need to relax, honey. Your heart rate is through the roof."

Her eyes were very wide now. "Sh–shock?"

"It's not just from the shock. You're panicking," Grissom explained. "You'll feel better as soon as you calm down."

Sara seemed to understand that and she followed Grissom's instructions, taking controlled, shallow breaths through her nose and letting them out slowly through her mouth. They continued like that for a few minutes, with Grissom keeping his emotions in check in order to help Sara relax. He talked to her softly until he felt her tense muscles relax against him. Her breathing, although ragged, became even once again and her pulse dropped a bit, much to Grissom's relief. _Thank God_, he thought, cradling Sara's shoulders. His silent celebration, however, was cut short quickly.

"It's just get–getting worse, Griss," Sara whimpered, a tear running down her cheek.

"The pain?"

She nodded. "And it's hard–harder to breathe," she told him, reluctantly keeping her promise.

"Adrenaline's wearing off," explained Grissom. He didn't offer any other interpretation but his mind reeled. _Damaged lung,_ his brain concluded. _It could collapse! _But his heart was simultaneously trying to tell him that she would be fine.

"I figured," she sighed. The look on her face told Grissom that _her_ mind was reeling too and that she was reaching the same probable conclusions. They stared at each other for a wordless minute and Sara let her tears fall, no longer bothering to hide them.

"I'm sorry, Sara," Grissom whispered, feeling a deep, dark pit in his stomach. _I wish I could do more. _He felt completely useless and completely guilty. He could only imagine what _she_ was feeling. Grissom reached down to squeeze Sara's hand, silently indicating that she could squeeze back as tightly as she wanted. She immediately tried to, but there wasn't much strength left in her grasp. She was becoming weaker.

"Don't–don't be sorry," she said hoarsely. "It's my fault. It's prob–ably _all_ my fault."

Grissom was shocked. He'd heard those words before and they pierced his soul–again."What? How is this _your_ fault, honey?"

Sara managed to put a little bit of pressure on his fingers and she smiled through her tears, her lips curving ever so slightly. "Should–have–stayed–home," she whispered.

Smiling back, Grissom smoothed Sara's hair away from her face, his fingers resting on her forehead softly. "Sara, we both know it would take a snowstorm in _July_ to keep you home from work." He shook his head. "And even that might not do it."

"Probably not," she admitted, her smile wavering. "I–I have a shovel. And I know how–how to use it."

Grissom's smile turned into a tired grin and he pulled Sara's head closer to him, until her ear was pressed right against his chest. He looked into her eyes to make sure he wasn't causing her any more pain and then he held her there softly, listening and feeling the threat of his own tears as she wept in his arms. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but as the minutes passed, Grissom brought Sara closer and closer to him, until she was nestled right under his chin. And then, almost instinctively, Grissom gently pressed his lips to the uninjured side of Sara's forehead, brushing her cool, soft skin with care. They both gasped lightly in surprise.

"Grissom." Sara's voice was soft, her eyes red but bright. "Grissom?"

He withdrew a little, adjusting Sara's weight in his arms to meet her tearful and astonished expression. "Sara, I–" Grissom's heart raced as he tried to figure out what had just happened. _What am I doing? I can't do this to her now!_ "I, um–"

Sara bit her lip and she smiled faintly. "I, uh, I thought there–there would have to be a snowstorm in July be–before you ever did _that._"

_Me too. _Grissom was startled. "I–I'm sorry–"

She blinked. "Are you?"

_Am I? No! No, I'm not sorry! That felt **right**. God, it felt so **right!**_

"Grissom–"

He shook his head quickly. "I'm not sorry," he breathed. "I'm _not_."

Sara's chin quivered and another tear escaped from the corner of her eye. "Then don't–don't say you are," she begged.

Grissom nodded, breathlessly. "Okay." Carefully, he pulled her back into his chest, still in complete shock. He felt light-headed and warm as he held her again and he wondered if his heart would ever slow down. Letting his fingers trail through Sara's soft brown hair, Grissom tried to take a few calming breaths, trying to prevent his own panic attack. He noticed that Sara was now very relaxed in his arms and that helped him breathe a little easier. That also encouraged him to place another gentle but hesitant kiss on the top of her head. Sara sighed in response.

"So, when–when are we going to talk for _real,_ Griss?"

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter is extra long! It's a bit of a turning point in the story, so I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks again for all the feedback for the previous chapters! 

Special thanks to:

**shalimar2 **(lol, I'm glad you'll forgive me!) **LSI **(Your feedback really makes _my _day, so thank-you! I really appreciate it!) **guess19 **(I'm glad you liked the horoscope! Thanks!), **ferndavant** (Thank-you for your comments! I'm glad you like it!), **Wayofriver** (We'll find out more about mystery car soon!) **djkittycat **(Props to you for the road flares! Their presence in this chapter is in your honour :) ) **Casandra** (Thanks! It's hard to keep Griss in character, especially, but I'm really enjoying the challenge!) **svcmc **(You're awesome! Your comments are always so encouraging and lovely and I just can't tell you how much I appreciate it!), **Laura** (don't worry, they'll be rescued–eventually. They have to talk a few things out first!), **Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc **(I'm really having a good time trying to portray their feelings so I'm really glad you like that part of the story!), **Almeida's-Angel24** (I'm SO glad you still like it! Thanks!), **DolphinAnimagus** (Thanks for all your reviews! Don't worry–they'll be rescued soon enough!), **jbr12476** (Thanks so much! I hope you like this chapter!), **Teenwitch** (Thanks so much. You always make my day! I really LOVE writing Sara so I'm glad you like it! Your new story with Rouch rocks btw!), **CarbyluvYTDAW** (I am absolutely honoured that you're sticking with my wip! I'll try to keep the updates coming quickly!) **Lauren **(thanks!), **DaVinci13** (I am grammar obsessed! Lol. Thanks for your comments–I am so glad that the story is believable!), **Jenny** (thanks!), **brainfear** (Thanks! I'm so glad! I hope you like this chapter!), **Leah2** (You're so sweet to leave me such detailed feedback–I love it when I can "feel" a story too and I'm extremely glad that you can feel this one!), **gabesaunt** (thanks so much! I'm very glad that it's realistic!), **Sunrays and Saturdays** (I'm glad you like it! I'm glad you like the slow pace. I think it's about to get a bit faster but I really enjoy trying to make sure the emotions are just right! Thanks for your comment!), **jesusfreak30** (thanks!), **Debbie** (glad you're still reading! Thanks!) and **Cherry-Banana** (I can't tell you how much I appreciate the constructive criticism. Thank-you for pointing out the slow pace–I definitely feel that way too–and I think this chapter was a little faster so I would love to know what you thought!)

Jazz


	8. Fireworks

It was the longest _and_ shortest hour of Sara Sidle's life.

As time stood completely still, Sara found herself stranded in a storm of Tylenol, road flares, meaningless conversations and confused glances. She was lost in a sea of darkness, where her heavy eyelids and her increasing panic pulled her below the surface, leaving her desperate for air, desperate for light. Grissom was her only comfort in the dark and he was holding her, guiding her through the pain, doing his best to make sure she felt safe. He was doing a _much_ better job than the Tylenol. Sara wasn't even sure if she'd taken the pills, for they were having no affect on the excruciating pain. But she remembered Grissom warning her that they probably wouldn't do much good and she remembered him holding the water bottle to her lips so she could take them–so she must have swallowed them. It just didn't feel like she had.

_At least Grissom's helping._

But he was also hurting her–unintentionally. During their forced forty-five minute talk and in the midst of her panic attack, Sara became increasingly aware, despite her struggle to breathe and to stay conscious, that Grissom remembered the accident. The feeling was very strong. _He remembers and he's not telling me._ _He's keeping me in the dark! Just like he has been for the past five years._ Sara repeatedly drew her fingers into her palms, feeling her nails scratch at her soft skin in fear and frustration. She could almost see the returning memories in Grissom's eyes. His blue orbs were clouded with a look of torment that Sara didn't recognize and his legs were completely rigid under her. His arms were wound very tight around her shoulders and while Sara felt very secure in his embrace, she couldn't help but feel his fear. Grissom was stiff, scared, stunned–he was _feeling_. That wasn't something Sara was used to and it made her worry–about both of them.

_I always thought he didn't feel anything._

When she panicked, from both fear and pain, the minutes seemed like years. And in those sixty second years, Grissom definitely felt _something._ He might have even felt _everything. _Sara could tell by the reassuring but desperate look in his eyes, by the firm yet gentle way he held her chin, and by the thousand emotions evident in his soothing voice. She was terrified and delighted at the same time. _First, I'm hot **and** cold. Now I'm terrified **and** delighted? Breathe, Sara._

Shortly after Sara got her breathing back under control, her fear started to melt away. And so did time. But it wasn't because she could breathe again. No, that was only a very small part of it. All sense of time was swept away the moment Grissom's lips met her forehead and everything became a warm and shocking blur. His kiss was so soft, so careful and so full of built up desire that Sara's consciousness became an explosion of emotional fireworks. Time was standing still yet moving so fast and Sara was suddenly _sure_ there was no way an hour could have just gone by. Their forty-five minute conversation about work and all the people there and what _everyone else_ meant to them just fizzled into thin air. Minutes seemed like seconds now and it was all because Sara was no longer thinking about the pain.

Sara barely recognized the sound of her own voice when she found her words again. "Grissom." Her tone was quiet, breathless. _Is this really happening? Right now? _Sara trembled wildly but she didn't feel any pain. She tried to calm herself down, trying desperately not to read too much into the kiss–just in case._ You **have** to stop thinking about this!_ Sara told herself._ It was a kiss to the forehead. He could have only been trying to comfort you. It worked, didn't it?_ _You have a damaged lung, possibly punctured. You're crying. He just wants to help._ Her mind froze. _Oh God, let it be more than that! _Sara cleared her throat nervously. "Grissom?"

He was silent, still holding her close, still shocked.

_Grissom, please, _Sara begged silently._ Please talk to me! Please tell me it meant something! Please tell me you're not regretting it already! _Sara couldn't keep track of the number of conflicting emotions that slammed through her, all at once, meddling deep in her heart. She was trying to think about a million things, breathe, _and_ keep her eyes open and she was getting very tired. She needed answers. She needed a reason to stay awake.

Another tear trailed down Sara's cheek just as Grissom pulled away to meet her gaze. "Sara, I–" He paused, his face a display of pure surprise but not regret–at least not from what Sara could tell. Her heart fluttered and she choked back a sob, daring to hope. "I, um–"

_Talk to me, Griss. Just talk to me–please! _Sara bit her lip and she smiled faintly. "I, uh, I thought there–there would have to be a snowstorm in July be-before you ever did _that,_" she whispered as another tear escaped the corner of her eye.

"I–I'm sorry–"

Sara blinked rapidly as the whole world caved in. _He's sorry. Already. I knew it. _Feeling sick to her stomach, Sara held back another sob,immediately wondering why she let herself even think about it. But she didn't have to wonder for long because Grissom's expression changed and all his panic and confusion transformed into something else, right before Sara's eyes. She studied him carefully, her heart soaring at the warmth and longing in his gaze and her mind telling her to ignore it. _Don't push this any further. Don't do it. He already regrets it. Leave it alone!_

But she couldn't keep her mouth shut."Are you?" She gasped for a breath. "Grissom–"

Just as Sara felt the pain creep back into her consciousness, Grissom shook his head quickly and Sara could feel the fireworks–again. "I'm not sorry," he whispered, his mouth so close to her ear that she could feel the gentle puff of his breath. "I'm _not._"

"Then don't–don't say you are," she begged softly. Sara wanted to break down right there in Grissom's arms. Relief flooded her body and she tried to hold back her tears but they just spilled down her cheeks anyway. _There goes my heart again,_ Sara thought, smiling weakly to herself, feeling her heart thump rapidly in her chest–but it didn't hurt. Every part of her shivered in joy and disbelief, just from that one, small but intense kiss to her forehead, and from the fact that Grissom didn't regret it.

Grissom still looked shocked but he managed a shaky "okay" before pulling her close to him again. As he cradled her in his embrace, Sara suddenly felt like she _belonged_ there, and she finally relaxed, letting her bruised body melt into his strong arms. Despite the fear that still simmered in her soul, Sara let herself enjoy the feeling of Grissom's fingers as they ran softly through her hair. When he placed another gentle kiss to the top of her head, she knew for _sure_ that he meant it and she sighed.

"So when–when are we going to talk for _real_, Griss?" Sara asked, making the leap before she completely ran out of strength. Her ear was pressed against Grissom's chest and she could hear his heart pounding, the rapid beats almost matching hers. _He should check his **own** pulse, _Sara thought, smiling into his coat. Her smile disappeared for a second as she coughed raggedly but she refused to acknowledge any pain at all–it just didn't exist right then. It couldn't.

Grissom brought his mouth even closer to her ear. "You okay?" he whispered, removing his hand from her hair and bringing it to her cheek. He stroked her skin gently and with a surprising amount of confidence.

Sara caught her breath and she nodded, her ear still pressed to his chest. "Nev–never better, Griss," she said, her voice full of warmth. "Are _you_ okay?"

He smiled and he seemed calmer now. "I'm fine, honey."

"Really? I can hear your–your heart racing."

"I'll be fine, Sara. It has a tendency to do that when–" He sighed, licking his lips and shaking his head, still smiling lightly. "I'm not worried about _my_ heart right now. I'm worried about yours."

Sara closed her eyes, soaking his words in. _I never thought I'd hear him say that. _She knew what he meant–he was worried about her heart rate–but still, she had never imagined those words coming from his mouth. For five years, her heart, her _feelings,_ hadn't mattered much at all to him. Or so she had thought. When Sara opened her eyes again, she met Grissom's tender stare and she realized that he really had cared about her all those years.

"How's the pain?" he asked gently, still stroking her cheek. His fingers were so light and so affectionate and Sara couldn't help but notice that he wasn't as hesitant now.

Sara chuckled faintly. "_What_ pain, Grissom?"

Grissom's smile turned into a shy grin. "So I take it the Tylenol's working?" he said, joking quietly.

Sara shook her head, wincing and smiling back. "Not at all."

"I see," Grissom whispered. He tucked her head under his chin and his hand returned to her hair, his fingers running through it softly. Sara listened to his breathing as the silence overcame them and she tried to keep her own breathing slow. The pain was coming back slowly and she'd been expecting it. She knew that Grissom's kiss wouldn't keep her floating on the clouds forever, at least not physically. The returning pain reminded Sara of the things that still needed to be said and she realized that Grissom hadn't answered her question.

"Griss?" Her voice was muffled by his coat. "You didn't an–answer me."

"Answer you?"

"My question," she clarified, knowing very well that he knew exactly what she meant. "We need to–to talk, Griss. And not about food or work."

He sighed and Sara felt his beard brush against her forehead. "We have plenty of time to talk, honey," he said reassuringly. "About everything."

"You–you don't know that," Sara whispered, her voice wavering. "You _can't_ know that."

"I do," Grissom replied firmly. "You're going to be fine."

Sara just nodded slowly, her head moving on Grissom's shoulder. _I don't want to think about that, _she thought to herself. _What's the use, anyway? _She felt her muscles start to tense again in panic and she immediately took a few shallow breaths, hoping to stay relaxed. Well, as relaxed as she could possibly be.

"Breathe, Sara," Grissom whispered in her ear. "Slow breaths."

"I'm try–trying."

"I know you are, sweetheart."

_Sweetheart?_ Sara smiled weakly as she inhaled and exhaled in a now familiar shallow rhythm. "Why won't you just talk to–to me, Griss?" she asked, panting between breaths. "It can't hurt now. Just–just tell me. Tell me where your mind's been for–for the last five years."

"Sara–"

"Please–"

Grissom carefully adjusted Sara's head so they could lock gazes. "I'm not–" A pained look crossed his face. "Sara, I'm not good at this," he sighed.

Sara was still gasping for air. "No–kidding."

Grissom winced, his blue eyes full of concern. "You need to concentrate on your breathing," he told her gently. "We need to get that under control before we talk about anything."

"I'm so tired," Sara moaned. "Talk, Griss. Just talk–talk to me."

Grissom's eyes glazed over and Sara was almost sure she saw tears forming. _This is really hard for him._ She knew that. She'd known that for a very long time. But she'd never seen him in this much pain. She couldn't help but feel bad that it was over a conversation that they should have had years earlier. She gritted her teeth, trying to think about the kiss in order to block out her own pain. _He kissed me and he meant it. It doesn't matter that it was on the forehead. He meant it. He cares for me. _But this time, the pain couldn't be forgotten and time was starting to crawl by again. _Two hours. We've only been out here for two hours._ Sara tried to steady herself and her eyelids fluttered from her efforts._ Come on, Griss. Talk to me._

Grissom took a deep breath and he let it out slowly. "I don't know where to start," he admitted slowly, quietly.

"I do," Sara replied breathlessly. She reached up to touch Grissom's beard, her fingers trailing weakly along his chin, her eyes searching his. "Why did you ask–ask me to come to Vegas?"

Grissom took another deep breath and then grasped Sara's roaming fingers, pressing them to his cheek. "Sara–"

Sara looked up at him, desperate for an answer. "Why, Griss?"

He sighed softly. "Because I wanted you here."

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: Lol. So I had to write Sara's reaction to the kiss because, well, I had to! Next chapter will definitely have a lot more of the talk! Thank-you so much for the incredible feedback for chapter seven! I was able to get this chapter up earlier than I thought and I'm hoping to have the next one up soon! Thanks again! 

Special thanks to:

**wanda57** (don't worry, someone will find them–eventually!), **lurker** (thanks for pointing out the time issue. I definitely agree. I'm hoping this chapter evened it out a bit, since I was doing both of their reactions to the same period of time. Thanks for your feedback!), **Billy4Me** (I'm really glad you like the hitches in Sara's speech and the description of the accident. More to come soon about the accident! Thanks for your comments!), **DaVinci13** (I'm glad you're still interested and I really appreciate your patience! Thanks!), **csipal** (thanks so much and I hope you keep reading and enjoying!), **jbr12476** (I hope you like the kiss from Sara's point of view too! Thanks!), **ddmc** (I'm happy to hear that this is suspenseful and I'm really glad you like it! Thanks for your feedback!), **Sunrays and Saturdays** (Lol that IS a good thing! Don't worry, it won't get too much faster. Some are telling me to speed it up a bit and some like the slow pace, so I'm trying to find a happy medium! I'm so glad that the sense of urgency is there! Thanks for your lovely comments!), **Jenny70529** (your review made me smile. You're adorable! Mushy moments on the way!), **marissa** (the story won't get too much faster! Thanks for your review and for pointing out the abruptness of the chapter. I can see what you mean there and I will take that in to account when writing the rest of the story! Very glad you enjoyed chapter 7 though, I hope you like this one too! Thanks!), **DolphinAnimagus** (Ah, GeekLove is the best! More to come soon about the accident! Thanks!), **svcmc **(thanks for your lovely comment as always. You always make me smile!), **Firebird Phoenix** (wow! It feels like it came from the show? That's awesome. Thanks so much for your compliment!), **Marlou** (thank-you for the detailed review! I'm so glad you're still reading! I'm glad it feels real, that's something that I was really aiming for. Lol yeah I have an obsession with grammar but sometimes I do slip up! Thanks for the lovely comments!), **CPDCSI** (so glad you like the characterization of Grissom! He's hard to write! Thanks for your review!), **lozluvswarrick** (I'm glad you like this story! Thanks!), **ToMyGrave** (Addicted? Awesome! Thanks for your comment!), **ScullyAsTrinity **(I'm so glad you like the pacing! That was important to me from the very beginning. SO glad you liked the kiss and the stargazing. You're really reading my mind about the ending ;) That would be very cute! Thanks!), **Chicklit** (Thanks so much. I'm glad you're still liking the story!), **drakien** (I'm glad you like the story and the cliffhanger! Hope you liked this chapter! Thanks!), **47th Spirit** (Thanks so much!), **LittleSidle** (I'm glad you like the characterization of Sara and Grissom. I've been trying to make sure Grissom doesn't over-talk. That was one thing I wanted to specifically avoid! Thanks for your comment and I love your name–very cute!), **CarbyluvYTDAW** (thanks for another lovely review! I hope you like this chapter!), **Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc **(Thanks! Glad you're still reading!), **gabesaunt** (I'm glad you like the kiss! The talk is coming, slowly but surely! Next chapter–a lot of talking! Thanks!), **Teenwitch** (Don't worry, the talk is underway and there's a lot more to come in the next chapters! Thanks for your wonderful comments!), **Debbie** (glad you liked this chapter! Thanks!), **CSI-phreak** (next chapter is here! Hope you liked it!), **an** (I'm so glad you are hooked! That's wonderful! Thanks!), **XakliaAeryn** (remember to breathe ;) lol, thanks so much!), **Aidrianna** (I'm glad you like it! Thanks!) and **brainfear** (thanks for sticking with me this far! You rock!)

Jazz


	9. Slow Motion

"Because I wanted you here."

Everything warped into slow motion as those words softly pierced the night air. Grissom's tongue was dry, his heart was still thumping at an extraordinary pace and his hands were shaking wildly but everything around him was a blur. He could only focus on Sara as the world quietly slipped away from him. The beautiful stars had momentarily melted away into the deep blue sky and the firelight was nothing more than a fuzzy, orange glow but Sara's hopeful brown eyes were bright and clear. Grissom could only see her beautiful face as she stared up at him, smiling despite all of the bruises, blood and pain and he could only think about how much he loved that smile and how he'd been living for it for the past ten years. Sara's broad smile always made everything seem right between them. It made Grissom feel like he could tell her anything and everything, even though he never did. It made him feel warm and comfortable but scared at the same time. It usually left him speechless. But tonight was different. Tonight, he was going to talk. For real.

Sara's fingertips danced meekly around Grissom's palm as they stared at each other, both of them letting the long-denied truth sink in. "_You_ wanted me here, Griss," Sara whispered, her eyes full of gentle happiness and utter relief instead of pain. She wasn't questioning him; she was clearly soaking in his words. "_You_ wanted me here," Sara repeated again, so very softly. Then, with a tearful grin, she _did_ question him. "So the–the _lab_ didn't need me?"

Grissom felt his nervous heart skip a beat and he shook his head slowly. "I–" He paused, grasping Sara's hand and slipping his trembling fingers through hers so that they were entwined. "The lab, uh, the lab never really had much to do with it, Sara," he breathed, fumbling over his words. A recent memory flashed through Grissom's mind and he shivered as Sara's meaningful words came back to him.

"_Why do you think I moved to Vegas?"_

Grissom knew the answer to that. He had known the answer for five years. And she hadn't really asked him that question, either. It was a hopeful reminder, a reminder they both knew that he needed. _Sara came to Vegas for me, because of me,_ Grissom reminded himself again._ And she came for the same reasons I called her. _Grissom sighed softly, timidly. "I think we both know why you're here, honey," he finally added.

Sara nodded faintly, a tear slipping down her cheek, and then she gave a short laugh. "Here?" she asked, still smiling broadly. "This isn't Vegas, re–remember?"

"No," Grissom replied with a small chuckle. "No, this isn't Vegas."_I wanted you **here** in my arms, Sara,_ Grissom thought to himself, loving the way Sara was snuggled close to him. _I've always wanted to feel you in my arms–just not like this. Not out here in the middle of nowhere when I can't do anything to help you. _He squeezed her hand and his mouth opened again, independent of his cautious brain. "I wanted you _here_ as in–with me."

Sara stared at him again, still smiling and clearly holding back a sob of relief. She struggled to speak and Grissom could tell that it wasn't just from her injuries. "Are you re–really saying this?" she whispered, her eyes wide. Her eyelids were certainly not winning the battle now. "Tell me I–I'm not dreaming this, Griss," she begged him, her fingers clutching his. "I can't tell if–if I'm asleep or not. Except for–for the pain."

"You're awake, honey," he reassured her softly._ But I'm not sure if **I **am._

Sara nodded slowly and Grissom reached around her shoulders to carefully brush her tears from her cheeks. She was crying openly now, allowing him to see her relief and her vulnerability, allowing him to comfort her and to be comforted. These tears weren't from the physical pain. They were from years and years of frustration and longing and Sara was releasing those emotions. Grissom knew this and he felt another stab of guilt because he was the cause of that frustration and because he felt the same way. _I could have fixed this earlier. I didn't take her pain away when I could have and now I really can't. I don't deserve to feel anything._ Grissom felt his eyes begin to water and he quickly shook it off, staring up into the sky for a moment so Sara wouldn't see. Everything was still a blur. Even the accident, which he now remembered, was fuzzy and distant. Grissom remembered feeling as if it were happening in slow motion.

_Sara's scream, the sound of the horn, the roar of the engine, the smashing glass, the smell of dirt and gas, the tipping, the tumbling, the rolling, the crunching, the blood and then the silence._

Sara squeezed Grissom's hand, the very slight pressure bringing him back to her before he could map out the memory in detail. "It's okay, Griss," she whispered. Grissom wondered if she had managed to see the tears welling in his eyes but then he realized that she didn't need to see them. She knew. _She always knows. She probably knows that I remember, too._

Grissom was actually relieved that Sara knew how hard this was for him. As Catherine once told him, he didn't have _personal stuff, _and revealing that he _wanted_ it was harder than Grissom ever imagined it would be. He had hesitated for so long. Sara's tears, despite the fact that they were partially out of happiness and relief, revealed that this hesitation had been costly.

"Sara, I'm so sorry," Grissom said gently. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me," she replied, whispering through her tears. "I'm ha–happy. I'm happy you wan–wanted me with you. I just hope you still do."

With his thumb, Grissom nodded and he tenderly wiped another tear from Sara's cheek. "Of course I do." He paused. "But I _did_ hurt you," he told her, his face becoming very somber in the firelight. "I've been hurting you ever since you came here."

Sara didn't answer. Instead, she gave him a small, reluctant nod and then let her cheek fall against his chest again. Their hands were still entwined and Sara pulled them into her own chest. "But that does–n't matter now, Grissom," she sighed. "It–it can be fixed."

_Can it? _Grissom wondered. _Of course it can,_ he told himself, silently mustering all of his confidence._ That's why we're talking–to fix this. We can fix this. I can fix this. Now if only I could fix Sara too. _"I want to fix everything, Sara," he replied tensely. "But–but I don't know how to do it."

"Slow–slowly."

"Slowly?"

Sara's head became heavier on Grissom's chest. "We have to ta–take it slowly. That's why I want–wanted to talk." She stopped to catch her breath. "We need to _talk_ everything out. And we need to–to do it slowly. You've spent years av–avoiding me and I want to know why. It doesn't matter that it happened, I just–I just need an–answers. That–that's the first step, Griss." Sara moaned as she finished the last sentence, gasping for breath again.

Grissom could feel the colour draining from his cheeks. _She shouldn't be talking at all,_ he realized, hearing Sara cough quietly. _It's only making it harder for her to breathe. I should have known better! _Sara's condition was clearly deteriorating and she needed to be kept still and quiet but Grissom also knew that he had to keep her awake. He bit his lip, knowing that he would have to do most of the talking now. _Well, this is ironic. _

He sighed. "Sara, honey. I know I'm a hypocrite but I'm going to have to ask you not to talk as much."

To Grissom's complete surprise, Sara didn't argue. She just nodded against his chest, her movements stiff and slow. "I know, punc–tured lung," she groaned, forcing her words out between raspy breaths. "Guess you'll have to do most of the tal–talking." She looked up at him then, with a tiny smile on her face.

Grissom didn't smile back. "I don't know if your lung is punctured," he reminded her softly, reassuringly. "But I don't want to take any chances."

Sara still smiled. "And just when I _wanted_ to–to talk too,"she joked.

"I know. Just keep it to a minimum. I–uh, I'll do the rest."

"Good," she whispered weakly. "That's good." Her eyelids flickered again, briefly. Grissom pulled his fingers from Sara's hand and for a second, she looked lost. But then Grissom placed his firm, warm hand against her cheek, securing her head against his chest. She relaxed against his palm and Grissom sighed inwardly, wondering where to begin. _Answers. She wants answers. She **deserves** answers. And so much more._

"Sara, I–" Grissom took a deep breath.

"Why _did_ you–you avoid me, Griss?"

Grissom exhaled. "Because I thought it was the safe thing to do."

"Safe," Sara repeated lightly, letting the word dangle in the chilly air.

"It's complicated."

"_Life_ is com–plicated, Grissom," Sara told him knowingly. But her tone was gentle, loving, forgiving.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered into her ear, telling her again. _But I did hurt her!_ Grissom silently screamed. _I hurt her by staying safe. I hurt her by trying not to hurt her. I hurt her because I didn't want her to hurt me. I hurt the one person who means everything to me. I'm not a good person. She deserves better than me. _Grissom cringed in fear and regret, again feeling the hot sting of the tears forming in his eyes. He took a few more deep breaths, desperate to stay in control. He swallowed, his head twitching slightly. "I, uh, I wasn't sure what I meant to you, Sara. Or, what I _do_ mean to you." _These sound like excuses. I have no right to make excuses!_

Sara buried her face in Grissom's chest. "Ev–everything," she breathed, her tiny, strained voice muffled but clearly full of affection. "You've al–always meant _everything_ to me, Grissom."

Grissom brushed his fingertips along Sara's cheek, carefully caressing her skin. _Everything,_ he repeated to himself, over and over again, letting Sara's words reach deep into his heart and deep into his soul. He felt warm and almost calm again. "I'm sorry I pushed you away, sweetheart," he whispered. "It was the last thing I wanted to do." He sighed. "But it happened anyway."

"Why?" pleaded Sara.

"Because–" Grissom felt a lump form in his throat."Because I don't trust myself."

"But you–you trust me?"

"Implicitly."

"Then why don't you sh–share anything with me, Griss?" Sara looked up at him again, still tearful. "I've missed be–being able to come to you and tell you an–anything and being able to feel com–fortable doing it. I've missed _you._ The _old_ you." Sara heaved in a ragged breath. "I thought it–I thought it was all my fault."

"I know you did," Grissom said quietly. "I shouldn't have made you feel that way. None of this is your fault." He started to stroke her hair again, feeling Sara's chest rise and fall quickly against his body. "Slow, shallow breaths," he reminded her, forcing a gentle smile onto his face. "I know it's hard but try not to say more than a few words at a time."Sara nodded and Grissom was pretty sure that she understood the importance of keeping her sentences short. She was the one in pain, after all.

"I made you feel uncomfortable," Sara said, continuing their conversation between breaths.

"No, Sara," Grissom replied. "You _didn't_ make me feel uncomfortable."

"I–I didn't?"

Grissom shook his head. "No."

"I don't understand–"

"It wasn't you," Grissom interrupted her softly. "I–I've been uncomfortable _around_ you but the only person making me feel that way was me. I avoided you because–"He took a nervous breath, raising his eyebrows. "Because I was confused. I _am _confused. And I–I've convinced myself that I'm not capable of giving you what you need." _Oh my God._ Grissom studied Sara's face carefully as he realized that those words had just come out of his mouth. He heard them echo through his mind in a now familiar slow motion, his own voice seeming low and distorted. _I can't believe I'm saying this to her. This isn't happening. None of this happening! I'm **not** awake._

"And wh–what would it take to change that mind set?" Sara's voice was shaking and barely audible. Her eyes were full of desperation "How–how can we fix that?"

Grissom scanned Sara's broken form, wincing at all the visible cuts and bruises. She was lying against him, fighting to stay awake, struggling with each breath and yet she was asking him if he would ever be capable of loving her. Grissom felt an incredible feeling of sadness sweep through him._ I already love you, Sara,_ Grissom told her silently. _I'm just confused. And lost. Literally._

"I've never really had a personal life," Grissom finally replied, his words slow, precise."You know that–everybody knows that."

Sara's eyes softened. "But you _want_ one, ri–right?"

Grissom winced. _Be honest, _he told himself sternly. "Yes–but I'm not even sure I know what constitutes a personal life, Sara."

"Yes, you–you do," Sara whispered. "You were the one who told me to–to find a diversion, remember? That's per–personal, isn't it?" She smiled faintly, a small sparkle in her eye. "I don't think–I don't think I know anything ab–about it either." She shivered and Grissom immediately checked the blanket to make sure it covered Sara's shoulders and then he began to rub her arms quickly but gently. "You're av–avoiding my ques–question again, Griss," she said, her teeth chattering. "How–how do we fix–"

"Shhhh," Grissom soothed, taking Sara's hands and pressing them into his coat to keep them warm. "I know what you mean," he told her, hoping that she would stay quiet for a minute and conserve her energy. "Isn't that why we're talking? To get answers?" he said, his smile briefly appearing again.

Sara groaned. "You–you're supposed to have them all."

"That's not fair," Grissom teased her lightly. Sara smiled for a second but then she closed her eyes, letting out a small breath. Grissom became very somber again and he hesitated for a minute before speaking. "I _want_ to be there for you, Sara. But–but I don't _know_ what you need from me."

Sara sighed."If–if you don't know what I need then how–how do you know that you can't give it to me?"

Grissom was silent. He couldn't even think.

"Why would you conv–ince yourself that you can't?" Sara asked gently.

Grissom's eyes were wide. "Because you deserve someone better than me, someone younger. You need–"

"I don't _need_ any–anything, Grissom."

_But you do need** me**? Right?_ Grissom felt his heart flutter madly in his chest. _Why is this is so hard? Why am I digging a hole around myself? Why am I **still** trying to keep her at a distance? This is ridiculous!_ Before Grissom could think about anything else, Sara tugged gently on his coat, forcing him to look into her hazy but beautiful eyes. "Sara?"

She smiled at him, her lips trembling. "The only th–thing I've ev–ever really wanted or needed is for you to want and to need me, Griss," she whispered. "So if–if you can give me that then I don't need any–thing else."

Grissom closed his eyes at Sara's heartfelt words and he hugged her close while being cautious of her injuries. He took a deep breath, deciding that now was the time to let her know how he really felt."I can give you that, Sara," he whispered back to her, kissing her forehead again. This time, he wasn't as timid and his lips stayed there for a little bit longer, delicately warming her cold skin. Then, he carefully pressed his forehead against hers. "I can give you that."

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, this chapter was really hard to write! Actually getting into Grissom and Sara's talk was quite difficult. I tried my best to keep them in character here and I apologize again for the delay. More flashbacks and more talking ahead in the next few chapters! Thanks to everyone for the feedback! 

Special thanks to:** Sunrays and Saturdays** (You're such a doll! I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thanks!), **Nina** (thanks!), **djkittycat** (thanks for pointing that out! That one gets me every time! I really appreciate your comment and your examples!), **svcmc** (thanks so much! I'm so glad it came across as all those things! That means a lot!), **DaVinci13** (I'm glad you liked it! Thanks!), **Knupje, Silence89, Chicklit, Tracy, Debbie** (Thanks to all of you! I really appreciate your support!), **jbr12476** (thanks for sticking with me and for all the feedback!), **Mochaccino Love** (thanks very much! Sorry about the delay! I hope you enjoy this chapter!), **LSI** (I hope you like chapter 9! Thanks for your comments!), **Courtney242, Gracee**, **LittleSidle, Aidrianna** (thanks to all four of you for the lovely reviews and to Gracee for the encouraging message at YTDAW. You all make my day!), **Laura **and** rawk16** (thank-you both!), **Katia** (thank-you very much for the detailed feedback! I'm glad you like it!), **CrysWimmer** (wow, thanks so much! Your comments were lovely and I blushed–big time! Thanks for taking the time to write such a detailed review! It made my day!), **CarbyluvYTDAW** (thanks for sticking with me!), **jesusfreak30, dreams-of-a-girl, duckyv91** (thanks to all three of you! Lol. I laughed at the poodle thing, ducky!), **Jenny70529** (aw, you didn't scare me! Thanks for your comments! You're awesome!), **gabesaunt** (thanks for sticking with me! I'm very glad you liked Sara's POV), **Teenwitch** (thanks so much! I'm glad this leaves you warm and mushy! Very glad you liked the last line!), **Lin, Dizzy-Dreamer**, **ToMyGrave, Eaglesei** (thanks very much to all of you! I really appreciate your comments!), **Christiangirl, Ravenara Erikana, crimsidle, raye, Sponge Hearts, Nick55 **(thanks to you all!), **DolphinAnimagus** (I'm glad you're still reading! Thanks!), **Shannon** (thanks so much! I'm glad you like it!),** Almeida's-Angel24 **and **brainfear** (your reviews really mean a lot! I really appreciate the lovely comments and the fact that you're still reading! Thanks to both of you!)

Jazz


	10. The Definition Of Love

_He wants me._

_He needs me._

Only three hours earlier, Sara had been gazing up at the scattered stars, wishing that someday, Grissom would finally _talk_ to her and tell her that he really wanted her, that he _needed_ her in the exact same way she needed him. At the time, her wish had been nothing but a hopeful dream, one that she'd had for years and years, one that she thought would never, ever come true. Grissom was, after all, a man of order, a carefully tuned system, a machine, an exact science. He was a man of predictable methods, not variables and Sara, with her heart kicking and screaming in frustration, had come to the conclusion that she would never be able to compete with Grissom's carefully controlled lifestyle. But now, after almost three painful hours in the darkness, Sara's only wish was coming true and she was absolutely overwhelmed. Grissom was finally talking to her, frequently stumbling over his words and still avoiding several difficult questions, but _talking. _And he was doing _most_ of the talking too–out of necessity, of course, but that didn't really matter to Sara. As she listened to Grissom's gentle voice–as she soaked in the words she'd been dreaming about for so long–she knew that everything would be okay. As long as she was in Grissom's arms, she was safe.

_It's funny really,_ Sara thought to herself, feeling light-headed for numerous reasons._ I'm out here, lost in the woods, cold and injured–but I've never felt safer. _That didn't mean that she wasn't scared. Sara was, in fact, growing more afraid by the minute but Grissom's gentle embrace and his soft, loving words were keeping her calm, giving her strength, giving her everything.

"The–they–they mu–must be look–looking for us by–by now, Griss," Sara said, her breathing even shallower and choppier than it had been just twenty minutes earlier. Sara found that the raspy, broken sound of her voice was really starting to scare her. _I'm getting even worse, _she silently realized._ But it's okay. I'm okay. Grissom's here._

"I'm sure they're on their way now, Sara. Just keep hanging in there, honey. They'll be here." Grissom's voice seemed a little more distant now but Sara found that, if she focused hard enough, she could still keep up with his questions and his revelations.

"Wh–what if–if they look in–in the wrong place–places?" Sara knew it was practically useless to ask that question but it slipped from her lips before she could really think about it._ What if they don't get here in time?_ That question was even more useless. Sara definitely knew the answer to that one. "The–they could head down an–any one of–of these ro–roads."

Grissom's reply was firm. "They won't. They'll find the right one."

Sara gave him a small, weak nod. _I'm safe,_ she told herself again. "Who–who's _they_ any–anyway, Griss?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. The two of them had been referring to their possible rescuers as _'they'_ but Sara hadn't given it much thought. _Who would come?_ she wondered. _Would it be Greg? Catherine, Nick and Warrick? Or the sheriff and his team? Will 'they' think to call an ambulance ahead of time? Maybe 'they' will do the smart thing and look for us in a helicopter right away. But will 'they' be able to see the fire and the flares through the trees?_

"I don't know _who_ will come," Grissom told her softly. "But I do know that someone will."

Sara gave him a half-smile. "Any–anyone but Ecklie," she whispered.

Grissom rewarded her smile with a pretty good one of his own. "I don't really want to see him either, Sara," he sighed. "But I don't think we need to worry about that. I'm sure Ecklie is_ busy _and I highly doubt that he'd be the first to figure out that we're missing."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Busy make–making 'for the–the good of the–the lab' speeches, you mean."

Grissom tenderly tucked a loose strand of Sara's hair behind her ear. "That's _exactly_ what I mean."

Sara gazed up at him, letting her eyelids droop a little. "So–" she began, taking a small breath to prepare herself. "While you–you're in the ha–habit of say–saying exact–ly what you mean–Wh–what _exactly_ did–did you mean when you said th–that you didn't know what to–to do about _this?_" Sara struggled with the words._ He's right. I shouldn't be talking. I can barely breathe! But I need to know._ "I–I mean I know now that you–you obvious–ly knew, deep down but–"

Grissom gently interrupted her. "Sara, just breathe for a few minutes, okay? Stay quiet."

"I need to–to know, Griss."

Grissom nodded. "Then I'll–" He pressed his lips together in thought and then shrugged his shoulders back, clearly trying to make himself more comfortable. "Then I'll tell you."

Sara mouthed an 'okay' and gratefully, she fell silent, the sound of her painful wheezes replacing her strained voice. _I'll listen for now,_ she resolved._ At least until I catch my breath again._

"I, uh, I'm assuming you mean the, uh, the dinner invitation," Grissom began, his eyes hesitantly searching Sara's. She nodded. "Sara, when you asked me to join you for dinner, I panicked."

_Yes. Yes you did. _Sara blinked rapidly in reply.

"But," Grissom continued. "It wasn't because I didn't want to."

_You could have told me that **then**, Grissom,_ Sara thought. But the warm feeling in her heart washed away any resentment that lingered there._ It doesn't matter now,_ she reminded herself. _We're fixing it. We really are._ Sara gave him a soft smile.

"I panicked because–" Grissom brushed his thumb lightly across Sara's lips and his voice became very quiet. "Because I had just figured out that I could lose you."

Sara's eyes filled with another round of hot tears. "The–the lab," she rasped. "The explosion."

Grissom nodded slowly. "Not to mention the incident that followed."

Sara winced. _The suspect. My gun. I was stupid. I thought I was indestructible. _Sara remembered that incident well. She had gotten way ahead of herself–and Brass–and she had ended up holding a suspect at gunpoint. _I was lucky. Grissom told me that. I **knew** that. _A tear trickled down Sara's cheek when she realized what Grissom was saying. _He was worried that he would lose **me**–not just his CSI–**me. **_

Grissom's eyes closed for a moment. "That night–I, uh, I said no for a dozen reasons, Sara," he whispered. "But there were so many more reasons to say _yes_." His eyes fluttered open again. "I was just being cautious," he admitted. "I was–I was scared."

"So–so was I," Sara whispered back.

"I couldn't stand the thought of hurting you," Grissom continued, giving her shoulders a very light but comforting squeeze. "Saying yes would have thrust me into uncharted territory without a map." He let out a small, tense chuckle. "I would have been lost–more than we are now. And I, uh, I had no idea how I would act around you in that sort of situation. I was, uh, I was afraid that I would hurt you somehow and that I'd lose you and I wouldn't know why."

Sara's heart melted. Grissom was finally pouring his heart out to her and the truth was beautiful and shocking. She listened, her eyes wide and her heart thumping wildly, as Grissom told her about Otosclerosis, explaining that his hearing condition was one of the reasons why he had declined her dinner invitation. Sara listened, concerned. _Everything makes sense now,_ she thought, thinking back on the past few years. She stared up into Grissom's eyes, seeing both guilt and innocence in them, and she immediately wondered if it was humanly possible to love him any more than she already did. _It's possible,_ Sara realized, content and amazed. _I've never been more in love with him than I am right now, right at this very moment._

Grissom sighed. "But in the past few months," he said, his voice low and husky. "I've started to realize that in trying to protect myself and in trying to protect you _from_ me, I've ended up hurting you even more."

_But you're not hurting me **now**,_ Sara silently told him, a tearful smile on her face.

Grissom ran his fingertips along Sara's jaw, his touch soft and delicate. "Sara, when you–" His fingers stopped for a moment, his hand clenching nervously. Then they continued–and so did his voice. "When you told me about your family, I, um, I became confused–even more than I was, if that's possible."

Sara smiled weakly, giving him a little nod. _I think it's possible, Griss. Everything is possible._

Grissom didn't smile, his expression remaining soft but serious. "I'm glad you told me. I wanted to help you and it meant the world to me, Sara," he told her quietly. "The fact that you trusted me with your secret meant absolutely _everything_ to me."

Sara took a calming breath before speaking. "You–you're the on–ly one I–I would ever trust with it, Griss–Grissom," she gasped out. "I did–n't think it–it would confuse you."

Grissom shook his head softly. "It's not that at all. I just–I started to think that maybe–"

_Come on, Grissom,_ Sara silently urged. _You're doing so well. Keep talking. I need to hear it. I need to hear it all._

"I started to think that maybe you didn't think of me in the way I wanted you to."

Sara sighed. "I–I know what you mean." _I felt the exact same way!_

Grissom's eyes began to wander, avoiding Sara's gaze. "You grew up without your parents, Sara," he said softly, uneasily."You didn't have anyone to turn to. You didn't have anyone to offer you guidance–" He met her eyes again. "When you told me about your mother and your, uh, your father, I felt like our relationship became even more complicated and even more confusing. I've always wanted to support you, to be there for you–" He took a deep breath. "But I've always wanted to give you even _more_ than that." Grissom's cheeks were rapidly turning red. "I _need_ to give you more than that. And I wasn't sure if we were still on the same page. At least not until now." He winced. "Does that make any sense?"

Sara choked back a sob. "It–it make–makes perfect sense." She fought back her tears, determined not to let herself get worked up by her overwhelming emotions. "I–I confirmed your–your fears," she gasped out. "I confused you. I–I'm sorry–"

"For what?" Grissom asked gently. "I don't understand. You've done nothing wrong."

_Inappropriate validation. That's what I did–or said–wrong, Grissom._ Sara shuddered. "I didn't me–mean it," she said quickly. "I didn't mean what–what I said." _You mean so much more than that to me! _

"Sara, honey–"

"I still–still cared. I _do_ still care," Sara began to explain. "I just–I just didn't think that–that _you_ did."

"_You_ didn't confuse me," Grissom said, his tone firm. He stared straight into her eyes and Sara could tell that he knew exactly what she was talking about. "In fact, you've always made everything pretty clear to me."

Sara felt her body relax a little. "I have?"

"Yes." Grissom gave her a sad smile. "And I let myself believe that I had all the time in the world to figure out what to do about this"

Sara's tears spilled down her cheeks but she barely noticed them. "So may–maybe now we can de–define_'this', _Grissom," she panted. "What–what exactly does _'this'_ mean?"

"I don't know," Grissom replied, his eyes full of compassion. "But it means _something._ It means I _feel_ something."

Sara gave him a wobbly, sheepish grin. _I know you feel something, Griss,_ she thought. _I know that now. _"I nev–never _really _thought that you did–didn't feel anything," she whispered. "I think–I think I al–ways knew that you did. I–I just didn't know that–that I knew." Sara coughed, gasping again.

"Relax," Grissom said, hushing her in an affectionate tone.

"I'm good," Sara replied._ I'm as relaxed as I could possibly be right now._

"Are you?"

"Yeah, I–I'm okay," she said, calming herself again.

Grissom nodded reluctantly and then, taking a slow, steadying breath in time with Sara, he continued talking. "I'm not sure I know how to define _'this', _Sara," he explained. "The, uh, the way I feel about you–I–I've never felt the same way about anyone else." He licked his lips. "I haven't been able to let myself analyse my feelings for you. But I know that these feelings are–strong. And I know that I feel very lost in them–in a good way. They're unfamiliar but they–they're good."

_I'm just happy that you've acknowledged that these feelings exist, _Sara thought, feeling so warm that the heat from their bonfire almost seemed cold.

"Sara–"Grissom's voice was shaking. So were his hands. "I don't know anything about any of this. I don't know about relationships. I don't even remember the last time I had a real one. I don't want to push you any further away than I already have but I–I'm afraid that, no matter what I do, it'll happen anyway and I don't think I could handle that."

"Nothing could push–push me fur–further away, Grissom," Sara replied, sighing against his chest. "Not as–as long as you care about me and want me with–with you. That's all I need. Re–remember? It–it doesn't matter if you–you don't know anything about re–lationships. You know ev–everything about _everything_ else," she chuckled weakly.

"But," Grissom slowly objected. "Like I said, I want to give you more. I _feel_ more than that for you. I just don't know what that means. For the longest time I, uh, I didn't think I knew anything about _love._ I still have no idea how to define it. And I feel like I'm the last person in the world who would be able to." Grissom brought his head even closer to Sara's before continuing. "But I–I think I might be getting closer to figuring it all out."

"I–I don't think love _can_ be de–fined, Grissom," Sara replied gently, her wide eyes and her once pale cheeks glowing. _Oh my God! He loves me,_ Sara realized, her heart leaping. She immediately noticed that her pain had disappeared again and that her body felt incredibly light. _He loves me! At least I think that's what he's trying to tell me._ When Grissom's passionate blue eyes confirmed Sara's thoughts, the world instantly melted away from her, everything fusing into one big, warm glow.

"I think you're right," Grissom replied, whispering into Sara's ear. "I think I'm starting to realize that there really are no words to describe it."

Sara's happy tears streamed down her cheeks, the steady waterfall dampening Grissom's beard. His rough cheek was now pressed gently against her own soft one and Sara could feel the heat between their skin. "I–I've had dreams about–about this," she breathed, her lips getting very close to Grissom's. "I've want–wanted this for so–for so long."

"Me too," came Grissom's breathless reply. He gently tilted Sara's chin, bringing her even closer to him. "Is this okay?" he whispered, just before his lips connected softly with Sara's.

Sara's small, desperate nod was lost in their very light but passionate kiss. Grissom's lips just barely brushed her own but Sara had never felt anything like it. She could never have imagined such an amazingly beautiful feeling. _I'm kissing Grissom!_ she silently cheered. _And he's kissing me. For real. This is really happening!_ When Grissom's lips left her own, Sara moaned–and it wasn't out of pain. She still couldn't feel anything but the incredible, warm, tingly sensations that were radiating throughout her weak body.

"Did I hurt you?" Grissom asked, looking instantly alarmed.

"God, no," Sara sighed happily, her breaths coming rapidly. "That was–that was just so–" She stopped, unable to find any words to describe how she felt. Summoning all her energy, she smiled broadly, tiredly. "My dreams were–were nev–er this good. I al–ways knew they–they would end, that they–they weren't real. This _feels_ real."

"It _is_ real," Grissom reminded her, his mouth still close to her ear.

"I'm–I'm so–" She stopped again, still speechless. She wanted to say she was _happy_ but she felt so much more than that. It didn't seem right. The word was completely inadequate.

"It's okay," Grissom jumped in, his eyes full of understanding. "I think I know what you're trying to say."

"Good," Sara replied, feeling dizzy. "I'm just–just so over–whelmed." She leaned in against Grissom's chest again, assuming that she was disoriented because of her bursting emotions. She fought to steady her breathing, her fingers grasping at Grissom's coat.

"Sara?" Grissom's voice was gentle and full of concern. "Just concentrate on your breathing. I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have–"

"No," Sara gasped. "Don't–don't say that. Please, Griss. Don't say th–that. It's not–not that at all."

Grissom closed his eyes, clearly relieved. "Okay," he whispered. Sara continued to gasp and wheeze and a second later, when Grissom opened his eyes again, he was all business. "Sara, what is it? You need to tell me."

Sara could barely hear Grissom and she was very confused all of a sudden. She shook her head a little bit, trying to escape the rapidly increasing fog in her brain. _I feel funny,_ she thought, panic creeping back into her heart. Sara was still beyond happy and she still felt as if she were walking on clouds but she was starting to feel the pain again and her head was already throbbing. _Something's not right,_ she thought wildly, her eyelids becoming very heavy again._ I can't close my eyes. I can't close my eyes, _she repeated to herself. _Breathe. Stay awake. Come on, Sidle! You can't leave Grissom now. He loves you and you're just getting to all the good stuff! You have to stay awake!_ Sara tried to talk herself out of the strange sensation but her eyelids were only getting heavier. And heavier.

Grissom's voice seemed very far away now. "Sara?" he urgently called out to her. "Talk to me!" His hands were on her face, his fingers tapping her cheeks insistently. "Sara, I need you to tell me what's wrong."

_I don't know what's wrong!_ she wanted to cry out. She tried to form the words but she just couldn't seem to do it. It felt as if she were trapped in a crazy spell, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to breathe. Gasping madly, she tried to force air into her lungs. "It–it hurts–again," she muttered between ragged breaths. "Too–tired. Can't–keep–my–eyes–open."

"Yes, you can," Grissom replied loudly, firmly. Sara was dimly aware of Grissom's movements as he quickly slid his legs out from underneath her. He grasped her shoulders and lowered her gently to the ground, removing his coat and bunching it up under her head. Sara managed to keep her eyes open just enough to see Grissom's face hovering close to her own. "Sara?" he called to her again.

"Happ–ened all of a sudd–en," she groaned. "Didn't fe–feel right."

"Just try to calm down, honey," Grissom encouraged her, taking both of Sara's hands into his own. "I'm right here. Everything's going to be fine."

Sara tried her best to believe him but she found it very difficult. Grissom seemed so far away from her and she was cold again. Very cold. _I–can't–fall–asleep,_ she told herself, her brain processing her thoughts very slowly. _Stay–awake._ Sara felt Grissom's hands move to rub her arms vigorously. Then, after what seemed like a split second but was really a few minutes, the rubbing stopped and Sara was aware of a bright light being forced into her eyes. First into the right and then the left. She put up a weak fight to blink her heavy eyelids but they were being forced open and her tired eyes were forced to endure the steady beam of light. _I'm–so–far–away,_ Sara thought, struggling to think.

Again, Grissom's voice pulled Sara out of her daze. "Stay with me, Sara," he repeated, until she managed to focus on him. "I know it's getting harder but you have to stay awake."

_I know, Griss. _Sara clung to his words, fighting her way back. The fog started to clear–just a little bit. _I need to know a few more things before I get even worse! _"Griss?" she mumbled, her vision sharpening. "Grissom?"

He squeezed her hand. "I'm right here," he said softly.

"The–the accident–"

Grissom cleared his throat and nervously, he averted his eyes.

"I know–I know you re–member," Sara whispered slowly, staring up at him.

Grissom gave her a slight half-smile and he sighed. "I think I knew that," he whispered back.

"I need–I need to–to know," Sara told him, slurring every word. "I need to–to know what–what happened. Pl–please."

Grissom nodded silently.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter took forever to post! I'm sorry I made you all wait so long but I moved and I wasn't able to get my computer hooked up until now! On a brighter note, school is over and the summer has started! I should have the next chapter ready to go pretty soon so I hope you're all still with me! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! 

Special thanks to: **Sunrays and Saturdays, Teenwitch, taramis, Dizzy-Dreamer, ToMyGrave, Eaglesei, Mochaccino Love, gabesaunt, DaVinci13, Katia, Aidrianna, jbr12476, djkittycat, lightning bug, brainfear, Jenny70529, Almeida's-Angel24, Shannon, Dolphin Animagus, Lifeguard, Debbie, Lin, Inky, CarbyluvYTDAW, Cheer, Silence89, dreams-of-a-girl, Trialia, laurensurgyn, svcmc** and **anonymous**, whoever you are! Thanks a million to you all and an extra special thanks to all of you who have been sticking with me for so long! Your support is so wonderful!

Jazz


	11. Hope

For three and a half excruciating hours, Gil Grissom, with his heart pounding out of control, had forced himself to believe that everything would be okay. Knowing that Sara was depending on him, he had almost managed to convince himself that they would be found quickly and that Sara would be able to hold on as long as she had to. She was, after all, one of the strongest women Grissom knew and it just didn't seem possible that Sara Sidle, always brave and faithful, could just close her eyes and give up. But now, after seeing her shiver and suffer, after listening to her moan in pain and gasp for air, Grissom was faced with the terrifying reality that Sara didn't have enough strength to fight, that her weakening body just couldn't allow it. His hope was fading. She didn't have much longer. He knew it.

And he could barely control his emotions.

Grissom was reluctant to even acknowledge his own pain but as Sara's condition deteriorated, he could feel nothing but the black hole of despair in his heart and his own rising panic. _I can't afford to panic,_ Grissom told himself over and over again. _If I'm going to help Sara at all, I need to stay calm and think this out. She needs me. She's depending on me. And I won't let her down!_ Grissom had been trying desperately to hide his growing fear and guilt from Sara. He was doing his best to make sure that his face revealed nothing but the love and hope that he was clinging to–but it was getting harder. After revealing his deepest feelings, after _connecting_ with Sara and finally setting his heart and soul free, Grissom now had to battle his worst fear–losing her. Gathering all his strength and forcing himself to focus, he looked down at Sara's semi-conscious form in determination. _I've waited years to tell her how I feel and now we're finally on the same page. I **need** her. I **love** her. I can't lose her now. I won't let it happen!_

Her face white and her brown, hazy eyes blinking rapidly, Sara was now barely able to form words. But she _still_ wanted answers. Grissom had gently lowered her to the ground so he could take a better look at her, to see if there was anything, anything at all, he could do to help her. After carefully checking her over again with the help of his flashlight, Grissom had settled down next to her, his eyes following the uneven rise and fall of her chest. And now, as he sat there, motionless, holding Sara's hands in his own, Grissom was faced with a task he'd been trying so hard to avoid.

_I have to tell her what happened._ Grissom sighed inwardly. _The accident. I need to make her understand. She wants to know. She **has** to know._ The accident was now painfully sharp in Grissom's memory and Sara was reading him like a book, just like she always did. It was now very clear that she didn't necessarily _want_ to know what had happened to them but that she _had_ to know. Sara Sidle had always made it a practice to learn and to know absolutely everything and Grissom, after years of teaching her, knew better than to withhold knowledge of any kind. So when she asked him to tell her about the accident, Grissom knew that he really didn't have a choice. If she needed to know, then she would.

"Sara–you're, uh, you're right. I _do_ remember the accident," Grissom told her quietly, taking a quick breath before launching into an explanation. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to upset you. And there were, uh, there were _other _things I wanted to say first."

Sara smiled weakly at that, her fingers squeezing his with the tiniest amount of pressure. Her eyelids flickered and she mumbled something but Grissom couldn't make it out–she was barely moving her lips._ Come on, honey. Stay with me here, _he silently urged. _I'm going to tell you what you need to know. Just stay with me. I have so much more to say to you!_

As if she were responding to Grissom's silent encouragement, Sara steadied herself and, with a great a deal of effort, forced out a few slow, slurred words."Te–tell me, Griss," she moaned. "Talk, okay? I–I need your–your voice." Her fingers fell away from his as she became even more sluggish. "Fe–feels bett–er when I–I can hear you."

Grissom's heart sank. Quickly, he found her fingers again, squeezing tightly. "Sara? Can you hear me okay right now?"

Sara shook her head, her movements slight. "Far aw–ay," she whispered.

"No, I'm not," he replied, his voice soft but loud at the same time, so that she could hear him. "I'm _not_ far away. I'm right here with you." Grissom squeezed her hands even tighter–as tight as he possibly could without hurting her._ I won't leave you, Sara. I'm not going anywhere,_ he promised, his thoughts remaining unspoken as he pressed his lips together in determination. _And neither are you!_

Sara's head lolled to one side, her cheek coming to rest on Grissom's bunched up coat. She sighed against the billowing material and Grissom immediately moved to adjust the coat so that it would cushion and support her head and neck if she chose to stay in that position. It didn't seem like she would have enough strength to move her head back so Grissom did his very best to make her as comfortable as possible. After making sure that the blanket was still wrapped securely around Sara's listless form, Grissom decided to lay down next to her, just for a little while, so that she would be able to see his face and know that he was still with her. One of his hands found her arm, the arm closest to him, hidden well by the bulky blanket.

"There," Grissom announced, as he inched closer to Sara, rubbing her arm and then her back to keep her warm and calm. "I'm closer now," he breathed. "Can you hear me a little better?" Sara nodded, her head moving just enough for Grissom to notice. He had to look twice to see the movement but when he did, he relaxed. "Good, honey," he said, keeping his voice loud and clear. "That's good."

Sara bit down on her lower lip, muffling a deep groan, and she winced, tears instantly flooding her dull eyes. She managed to gasp out a few more words and Grissom, bringing his ear closer to her lips, was able to make out the words 'another' and 'car' before Sara became silent again. He nodded reluctantly and, with a heavy heart, began to tell her exactly what he remembered. He explained how they had seen intermittent lights through the trees, how they had made a sharp turn only to find themselves in the direct path of another car–or a truck to be exact. Grissom's voice wavered slightly when he told her that the truck never slowed down, that the driver hadn't seen them or had chosen to ignore them. And his voice wavered noticeably when he revealed, in detail, the reason why she was badly injured and he was not.

"_Grissom!"_

_Sara's short, fearful cry ripped Grissom's soul apart._

_But he didn't even have time to think about the devastating anguish that flooded through him. In fact, he was no longer able to think or feel the moment he pounded his fist against the horn and floored the gas pedal. He was numb, acting only on instinct, and desperate._

_Headlights._

_They were relentless, staring them down in the darkness, the light threatening to swallow them whole. But the Tahoe's engine roared and the tires skidded in the gravel, rapidly spinning a hollow into the ground before launching the vehicle into full motion. _

_Only milliseconds passed as the truck barrelled along the narrow road, heading right at them at an unforgiving speed. There was a thick cloud of dirt as the Tahoe surged ahead and Grissom, his mind blank and his heart hammering in his chest, had to make a choice–even though there really was no choice to make. He had to escape the oncoming vehicle. And there was only one, bleak alternative to being hit head on. _

_Closing his eyes in fear, Grissom turned the steering wheel sharply to the right and the Tahoe flew into the trees at an incredible, dizzying speed. He thrust his right arm out in front of Sara, protecting her, holding her back against the seat as they violently abandoned the road, narrowly escaping the speeding truck._

_They were flying. _

_At least, that's how it felt to Grissom. Deep down, he knew better but he wasn't in any position to realize that. It was almost as if his mind was melting as they raced into the darkness, out of control. He was, however, conscious enough to know that he needed to somehow brace himself–and Sara–for the crash that was certainly no more than a split second away. He winced, holding his arm against Sara's chest with all of his might, shielding her. _

_Sara was gasping but other than the sound of her panicky breaths, she didn't make any noise at all. She didn't have time to. The flight ended in the same second it began, when the Tahoe made contact with the thick row of trees lining the side of the road. The hurtling vehicle scraped along one of the thick trunks before slamming against another tree, the passenger side taking the loud, intense blow. The sounds of shattering glass and crumpling metal tormented Grissom's ears as the Tahoe tipped and turned, recoiling from the impact. He could no longer hear Sara's gasps. She was silent._

_Somehow, Grissom's foot made it to the brake and with every ounce of strength he could find within himself, he stomped on it, sending the staggering vehicle into a spin. He tried to regain control of the Tahoe but he was too late. The front tires slid over the edge of a bank, sending Grissom and an unconscious Sara tumbling. They rolled, sliding down the small, bumpy hill, the already weakened passenger side groaning and bending dangerously. He gritted his teeth, hearing the noise and feeling sick as he was tossed about, and he searched for Sara's hand but everything went black before he could find it._

_A minute later, when Grissom opened his eyes again, the Tahoe was sitting upright, shuddering in place. They were now in a clearing on the other side of the trees and Grissom couldn't seem to remember what had happened. But his heart knew. And his heart knew that the only way he could deal with it was to forget it all for just a little while._

_So he forgot._

_And the stars became the only thing in his world. There were millions of them and they sparkled through the broken glass, shining into Grissom's broken heart._

Grissom sighed and Sara's chin quivered. Now they both knew that the truck never hit them. Instead, it had forced them off the road and then passed them like a fast-moving storm, leaving displaced dirt, tire tracks, a defeated, broken Tahoe and two eternally altered souls as evidence.

"I wasn't able to think, Sara," Grissom admitted, his husky voice wavering. "I didn't have time. I couldn't do anything but try to get out of the way." Feeling guilty and very uncomfortable, he licked his dry lips and he tilted his head, stretching his neck. "And," he continued slowly. "For some reason, I was lucky. But it should have–" His eyes stung and his words stopped coming. _It should have been me,_ he thought, wanting to say the words and urging his mouth to open._ Sara shouldn't have to face this! Why does she always get all the pain? _

Sara stared at him, her eyes barely open, her tears still falling. "Griss?" she said, her lips moving slowly, determinedly. "It–it's not your fault."

Grissom shook his head, giving her a tired, half smile. "Feels like it. I feel like I let you down," he said, touching her cheek gently. "It's always been my job to protect you, as your boss, as your friend and as, well, more than that, and I couldn't do it this time. I feel responsible." Grissom knew that it was irrational but only natural to blame himself for Sara's injuries. Still, he couldn't help but think that it might have been different somehow, that he could have prevented her pain if he had done even one thing differently. "I need you to understand," he continued, pausing again briefly. "That I would do anything–absolutely anything–to protect you, Sara. You have to know that."

Sara nodded weakly again. "I _do_," she breathed.

Grissom stroked her cheek, smiling softly in reply. Then, he spoke again."I don't know why the other driver didn't see us," he told her, his smile already gone. "He could have been drunk or high or just plain reckless. I can't give you any definite answers."

"It's okay," Sara replied, only mouthing the words. She lifted one of her hands up slowly, extending her fingers toward Grissom, reaching for him. He grasped them tightly and her eyelids fluttered closed, her tears still flowing.

"Sara, come on," Grissom begged, his voice hoarse. Her brimming eyes opened again, only slightly. "Just stay with me here," he said. "I need you to hang on. For me. We're going to get out of this. Together. Okay?"

Sara didn't answer. Or blink. She just stared. And her unstoppable, silent tears fell.

Carefully, Grissom wrapped his arms around her and he closed his own eyes, praying. She was getting weaker by the second, her breaths coming in deep, raspy gasps that were becoming louder and more painful. "They'll be here soon," Grissom said, whispering into Sara's ear, hoping that he might be able to calm her again. But he was pretty sure that they were beyond that point now. Sara was no longer in control of her body or her mind. "They'll be here," Grissom said again, anyway.

"I–I hope," Sara replied softly, struggling to gasp the words out. She stared into Grissom's eyes, her whole face full of fear. "I'm so sc–scared," she cried.

_I know, honey,_ Grissom thought, his heart breaking all over again. _I know you are. So am I. _He hugged her a bit tighter, being careful of her ribs, and he stroked her hair softly. "Hold on to that hope, Sara," he whispered, his mouth still at her ear. "I need you to hold on."

But Sara didn't hear him. Grissom felt her body shake and by the time he pulled away to look at her, her eyes were closed and she was still. The sound of her laboured breathing filled the night air but she was unconscious, unmoving.

And Grissom, with tears filling his eyes, fought to hold on to his _own_ hope.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you liked chapter eleven! Sorry about the wait. I've got chapter twelve coming and a few new stories that I hope to post soon! 

Special thanks to: **wanda57, ToMyGrave, DolphinAnimagus, Trialia, vsky, Teenwitch, Sunrays and Saturdays, GracefulBee, LSI, jbr12476, Chicklit, Aidrianna, rokothepas, wandaa, tarrabeena, silence89, anan, DaVinci13, Dizzy-Dreamer, Hans (the girl), ScullyAsTrinity, CarbyluvYTDAW, gabesaunt, Mochaccino Love, anonymous **(whoever you are!)**, CSICubsFan, Lin, Katia, HeartGSR, Jenny70529, dreams-of-a-girl, lalaforte, gscritter, LidVelvet, brainfear, Cassie, Wiccagirl 24, cjtylr74, Veronica, Laura, AyaSidle** and anyone I missed! I really appreciate all of your reviews! Thanks for sticking with me and for being so supportive!

Jazz


	12. Two Miracles

There were decisions to be made and the last thing Grissom wanted to do was make them. Sara had been unconscious for twenty minutes and Grissom had never felt so alone or so helpless. He'd spent the last little while watching and waiting as her condition steadily deteriorated, feeling like a complete failure. First, he had failed Sara by not being able to protect her. Then, he had failed her all over again by not finding a way to keep her awake and responsive. And now he would fail her again–one final time–if he couldn't find a way to get her to safety. He wasn't about to give up but his options were limited. He could stay and wait, praying that help would arrive in time or he could carry Sara down the road, getting them closer to help but risking further injury to Sara's chest. He couldn't leave her. That _wasn't_ an option. So he had to decide between the only two possibilities and he had to make the _right_ choice. If he didn't, he would lose her. And then he would lose himself. Again.

_Sara was right,_ he thought, an unbelievable pain sweeping through him. _I finally figured it out and I really could be too late._

Grissom had planned on waiting, on staying in one place until they were found. Until now, the risks involved in moving Sara had outweighed the benefits of trying to reach the main road. But Grissom could see that their chances of being found in time were getting slimmer. Somehow, he _knew_ that she wasn't going to regain consciousness. She had sustained a severe concussion and the internal bleeding was wreaking havoc on her body, making her weaker by the second and causing more problems than Grissom could allow himself to think about. Her condition had been critical from the beginning but now, to make matters worse, there was clear, external evidence of her internal bleeding. A thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and when Grissom lifted her shirt to press gently against her abdomen, he noticed that it was rigid in the areas where the bruising was more severe.

_The bruises. There's so many of them! _He cringed and closed his eyes. He had almost managed to forget about the patchwork of dark colours on Sara's chest and abdomen. But now, after seeing the bruises again, Grissom knew that he would never, ever shake the image from his mind. He took a deep breath and he shook his head, opening his eyes again to do up Sara's coat. In his heart, he knew what he had to do. _I need to get her out of here and I need to do it now,_ he told himself firmly. _She can't afford to wait any longer._

Grissom didn't have time to second guess himself–though he knew that he would end up doing that. As he mentally planned their journey to the main road, Grissom glanced over his shoulder to where the Tahoe sat crumpled and silent in the darkness. And then, taking another deep breath and working quickly, he pulled the blanket off of Sara and laid it out on the ground beside her. Being as gentle as humanly possible, Grissom slid one arm under Sara's shoulders and the other under her back, lifting her up and over a few inches to place her on top of the blanket. He wrapped the heavy material around Sara's prone form and with a silent prayer, he gathered her into his arms, forgetting his own pain as he swiftly worked his way into a standing position.

_She's so light,_ Grissom thought to himself, ignoring the fear that continued to build up inside of him. He wondered if Sara was that light all the time or if she just _seemed_ that light in comparison to his heavy heart. He hadn't noticed her feather-light weight before, when he pulled her from the Tahoe. But then again, he hadn't really been _thinking_ at the time. He had been focussed only on getting Sara safely out of the vehicle. Of course, Grissom was _still_ focussed on getting Sara to safety but he could no longer control his desperate, wandering mind. He was full of emotions now, full of questions like never before. But he had some answers too and he had courage and a little bit of hope left in him.

He was going to need it.

With a final glance at the accident site, Grissom turned towards the road, vowing to return and put out their bonfire as soon as Sara was taken care of. Their small bonfire had already been reduced to glowing embers and Grissom was pretty sure that it would fizzle out on its own. So he left it. And he left his field kit and other items that he'd taken from the Tahoe. The only things he took with him, besides Sara and her blanket, were a few extra bandages from the first aid kit and his still useless cell phone. He wondered if he might get a signal further down the road. The cell phone fit into one of his coat pockets. The bandages fit into the other with room to spare.

And Sara fit into his arms perfectly.

Sara's head rested on Grissom's shoulder and he could feel her uneven breaths against his neck. Her breathing was still loud and laboured and the warm, raspy puffs were still a little too frequent but not as rapid as before. _At least she's not in pain,_ Grissom kept reminding himself. Sara was unconscious and that was dangerous in her condition but it was somewhat of a relief at the same time. She couldn't feel her broken ribs, her deep cuts or her blue bruises, she couldn't taste the blood in her mouth and she could no longer see or smell Grissom's growing fear. But she could hear.

At least, Grissom _believed_ that she could.

He was pretty sure that Sara could still understand his voice even though she couldn't respond to it. He imagined her, trapped in a peaceful darkness, lost but not afraid. If he continued to speak to her, to guide her, then she would still be with him and he would still be with her. And then they wouldn't be alone in the dark.

And they wouldn't lose each other to the shadows.

Grissom adjusted Sara's light weight in his arms and then, talking softly to her, explaining what he was doing, he started to walk faster–as fast as he could without risking further injury to Sara's small frame. He stared straight ahead at the dark road, praying every two steps that this was the right thing to do, that he wasn't getting himself–and Sara–even more lost than they already were. Deep down, he knew that he was going in the right direction and that the main road wasn't too far away but he didn't know for sure how long it would take to walk there or how long Sara would be able to hold on if he aggravated her injuries. Her damaged lung was like a ticking bomb and if it collapsed, which was not unlikely, Grissom wouldn't be able to do much about it.

But he had made his choice and it really seemed like the best option. Time was running out and they could no longer afford to wait until help found them. They would have to find help instead. Grissom wondered if he ever should have waited at all. He had _assumed_ that everyone would be out looking for them within two hours of noticing that they were missing. Four and half hours had already gone by and Sara was right–even if they _were_ looking for them, they could have gone down any one of the back roads. They would need a miracle and Grissom was only just beginning to believe in them.

He continued to talk out loud as he walked. "Sara–I don't believe in a lot of things," he admitted softly. "You know all too well that my life revolves around science and order. I like concrete answers. I like being able to provide solid proof, physical evidence–" Grissom paused. "I've always lived in my work and I've been blinded by it." He paused again, sighing deeply. "I thought that science held all the answers to everything, that if I stuck to what I knew then I would eventually understand all the things that puzzled me. But I'm starting to see that there, uh, there just might be other forces at work and that there are other explanations for some things that aren't purely scientific." He tried to catch his breath.

_I don't know if miracles really do happen,_ Grissom continued silently. _But if they do exist, if they happen, then God–please! Sara needs one. We need one. I don't deserve it but Sara does. Just help me get her home safe. Just give her the strength to hang on, to get through this!_

Grissom licked his lips. His feet were dragging through the small stones and his arms were keeping Sara as still as possible. "Honey," he began again. "The day we first met–I had never been more convinced that science held every possible answer in the world. When I talked to you, I knew that you believed the same thing and that you escaped into science and into your work in the same way I did. I always thought that was the reason why we connected."

_I was wrong,_ thought Grissom._ Yes, we connected. But it wasn't because we're the same. It was because we're different. It was because we needed each other. It was because we're always going to need each other. It was because we thought we had learned everything but really, we had learned nothing at all. It was because neither of us believed in miracles._

Grissom shook his head lightly. "It's always been so deep with us," he breathed, feeling only slightly uneasy with his monologue. "Right from the beginning. I couldn't understand it. And when I don't understand something, it scares me." He let out an anxious chuckle. "I, uh, I felt so many things for you and I couldn't explain it to myself. I thought you were the same as me but then I learned that you're so much more than I am. You're so different, Sara." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You're so wonderfully different and I didn't realize how much I needed that, how much I needed _you._ You've been through so much and yet you still listen to your heart and you, um, you–you know how to _love._ You know how to _live._" Grissom's knees started to tremble. "I haven't _lived _yet," he softly confessed."And even though you know how, I don't think you have either."

_It's my fault._ Grissom gritted his teeth. _Sara was ready to love me ten years ago and I couldn't let her do that. But she waited for me. She always knew that we were supposed to be with each other. She never gave up._

He took another deep breath. "Sara–as unscientific as this may sound, we're not _supposed_ to do this–to live–without each other," he said loudly, firmly. "So I need you here. I can't guarantee that I'll be any good at a relationship and I don't know what's going to happen but I _do_ know that I've always wanted you, that I've always needed you in my life. This may be selfish but I can't lose you now. We still have so much to talk about. I want to _know_ you again. I want to make everything up to you. I want us to _live._ I need you to hang on and give me another chance."

He became silent, thinking about the day they first met and listening to Sara's breathing. A tired, weak smile curved his lips as he remembered the first time he saw her. It was the first day of his seminar and she'd been sitting in the front row, ready to take notes, ready to learn. He had wanted to teach her forever. Sara's brilliant questions and her refreshing desire to know everything made Grissom's spirit soar. She was his star pupil and he had rediscovered the world in her sparkling eyes.

"_Dr. Grissom?"_

_Grissom stopped packing up his notes and he turned around, pushing his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose. Through the slightly smudged lenses, he studied the young woman standing in front of him and he smiled, realizing that it was the vibrant brunette who had spent most of the class with her hand raised._

_His eager, young student extended her hand. "Sara Sidle," she said, gazing directly into his eyes. Grissom raised an eyebrow, noting her firm, enthusiastic handshake. His smile grew._

"_You asked some excellent questions today, Miss Sidle," he replied warmly, feeling oddly exhilarated. "I'm not sure if I should even bother asking if this seminar is a requirement or for interest."_

_Sara blushed. "It's for both, actually." She shrugged, still grinning. "I mean, it counts towards my graduate studies but I'm definitely here out of interest."_

"_I could tell," complimented Grissom. "I don't think I've ever had a student ask me so many questions in one class. It was refreshing to have someone so prepared."_

"_I read some of your articles last week," Sara blurted out. "They were fascinating."_

"_Thank-you. I'm glad you enjoyed them."_

_Sara continued, her eyes sparkling like stars. "I couldn't wait to inquire about them. I apologize if I took us off-topic today. I know you probably didn't want to cover some of those issues in our first class. I just couldn't seem to stop myself."_

_Grissom shook his head quickly. "There's no such thing as off-topic," he told her brightly. "When analysing a crime scene, anything can relate to anything. An open mind is necessary at all times. You were very open-minded with your questions and all the issues you brought up were important to today's discussion."_

_Sara seemed slightly surprised. "Really?"_

_Grissom nodded. "You really made the class think. You should feel pretty good about that. Only one person fell asleep today." He winked at her. "And I'm pretty sure that's a record for me so thank-you."_

"_I like to make people think," Sara confessed with a short laugh. "Picking brains is a hobby of mine." She paused. "In fact, I was, uh, I was hoping that I might be able to ask you a few more questions about your articles and entomology in general–if you're not busy."_

_Grissom was delighted. "Sure," he told her. "That would be fine. I have to be on the other side of campus by eleven-thirty but if you'd like to walk with me–"_

_Sara's face lit up. "You wouldn't mind?"_

"_Not at all."_

_The young woman bit her lower lip in thought. "If another time is better than that would be great too," she said quickly. "Your day is probably hectic and I don't want to bug you with bug questions." She laughed again, giving Grissom a sheepish look._

_Grissom was surprised at how comfortable he felt around Sara. He didn't have to think twice about his reply. "Right now is a good time," he assured her. "Trust me–there's no possible way you could bug me with bug questions. I can't get enough of them!"_

_With that, he gave Sara another smile, packed up his notes and then they left the lecture hall together._

Grissom and Sara's first walk together had been the start of their very meaningful and confusing relationship. From that day on, they intrigued each other beyond words. They wanted to spend time together and learn from each other. They wanted to do and feel so many things. And now, over ten years later, Grissom was walking with Sara in his arms, vowing that it wouldn't be their last walk together and finally realizing that _she_ was a miracle. She was _his_ miracle for just coming into his life.

Stopping briefly every ten minutes to catch his breath and check Sara's pulse, Grissom pressed on down the road, barely noticing that the stars were fading. The first streaks of sunlight would soon be piercing the blue sky and Grissom wondered if he would then be able to see his path a little easier. The thick trees created a dark tunnel and while he could still see the brightening sky through the billowing leaves, it was considerably darker on the road than it would be out in the open. Feeling isolated, he talked to Sara about anything and everything–the trees, the leaves, the stone in his shoe, the guilt in his heart–and he managed to keep his mind off the desperate trek. He just walked and talked, moving as quickly as he could, stopping only when absolutely necessary.

Sara never stirred.

He was talking about beauty, independently revisiting an old conversation, when, all of a sudden, he heard _nothing. _And he knew that his hearing wasn't the problem. His blood turned to ice in his veins as he lowered Sara to the ground and dropped his ear to her lips. He prayed for a warm puff of air_–_but he felt nothing against his cheek. Sara's loud, uneven wheezes had stopped completely. She was silent. She wasn't breathing. Grissom's frantic fingers found the faint, rapid pulse in her throat and he let out a brief cry of relief. Her heart was still beating. But she wasn't breathing.

_Her lung. Internal injury. Deterioration. Collapse. Respiratory distress. Respiratory failure_. Grissom's mind was reeling, full of words and scientific explanations. But his body was frozen in place. His limbs felt heavy, his heart heavier. Sara lay on the road, cushioned only by the blanket beneath her, not breathing–and Grissom couldn't move. This was the moment he had been fearing all night long. There was nothing he could do now other than try to breathe life back into her, despite the hopeless odds. Shoving his emotions aside and shaking himself into action, he gently tilted Sara's head back to open her airway. And just as he was about to begin a battle he was almost sure to lose, the dark silence was broken.

He heard _something._

Grissom was immediately worried that he had imagined it. He looked up, his eyes and his ears searching, his heart thumping loudly. Sara was still silent under him and the only sound came from the trees as the gentle breeze made the leaves flutter. But it wasn't the breeze that made Grissom's heart soar. He knew that as well as he knew entomology. It was something else entirely–something faint and distant, something that held more power in that moment than even the strongest wind.

With his hands on Sara's cheeks, Grissom listened, too afraid to move. The noise came again, louder, closer–a steady hum in the air. Grissom's courage and strength returned with the hopeful sound and he leaned in closer to Sara's face, his lips meeting her lips so he could breathe for her. He gave her a controlled breath and then another before turning his head to listen–one ear feeling and listening for any response from Sara and the other listening to the comforting hum. Whatever it was, it was very close now and Grissom began to wonder if they might actually get their miracle.

"Sara!" he called to her, his voice hoarse, urgent. "Stay with me, please. Just a little longer. Help is coming. I can hear them now." Grissom leaned in to give her another breath while trying to calculate how far he'd come down the road. He knew it wasn't too far. He'd only been walking just over thirty minutes, including three stops, so they were still a fair distance from the main road. Perhaps it was far enough.

With tears in his eyes, Grissom realized that the noise he heard was an engine–a vehicle–approaching quickly but not recklessly. His whole body felt light at the sound and he gave Sara another breath, now believing with all his heart that she had a chance. He was calling to her, begging her to breathe, when he saw the headlights through the trees. Grissom could barely contain his emotions as he gave Sara one more breath and then moved to lift her delicately into his arms. He nestled her against his chest and then using up the last of his energy, he jogged towards the approaching lights, worried that the vehicle might somehow miss them in the darkness. He couldn't take that chance.

_I waited too long,_ Grissom thought to himself as he dashed ahead. His mind was full of jumbled, conflicting thoughts. _I shouldn't have waited at all! But maybe I should never have moved her! Her lung collapsed because I made it worse! She could still be breathing if we stayed where we were! But then we might not have been found!_ He knew he did the right thing and that he was only making it worse for himself but he couldn't help thinking about the other choice he could have made. He couldn't wondering what Sara would have wanted him to do.

But those thoughts were erased the moment he heard his name in the breeze. "Grissom!" came a familiar, strained voice. "Sara!"

And then another familiar voice–louder, female, coming through a rolled-down window. "Gil! Oh God–"

They had been spotted. Grissom winced in the bright headlights, shaking as he relived the accident. The Tahoe in front of him–a ghostly image of what his own used to look like–came to a halt and Greg and Catherine instantly jumped out, rushing over to Grissom and Sara at full speed. Their pounding feet sent small stones flying.

Relief flooding his soul, Grissom fell to his knees, holding Sara close to him. For a minute, everything was a blur as he tried to come to terms with the fact that they'd been found. It had happened so fast. He felt like he had just started walking and then, suddenly, he wasn't lost anymore. Grissom was dimly aware of Catherine's hand squeezing his shoulder as she talked into a radio, speaking rapidly. And through a haze, he could see the concern on Greg's face as he leaned over Sara, placing one hand on her bruised cheek.

As the world came back to him, Grissom could only think about the miracle that had just occurred. He knew the battle was far from over but he had hope again. And now he _believed_. For reasons he couldn't even imagine, Grissom had just been given his second miracle. Sara, his first miracle, still had a chance._ He_ still had a chance. _They_ still had a chance.

It took two miracles but now Grissom understood love.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for all the feedback! I really take into consideration all of your comments! Sorry about the delay with this chapter. I wasn't sure exactly where I wanted to go with it but I think that the timing is now right to have them found–finally! I wrote this one with a focus on Grissom when it should have been Sara because I really wanted to make it seem like he was alone and since Sara can't really communicate, I thought it would be better to stick with Grissom! I hope you enjoyed and thanks again for all the kind comments. Next chapter should be up soon (for real, I hope!). 

Special thanks to:** Silence89, CSINut214, Dizzy-Dreamer, Sunrays and Saturdays, lightning bug, jbr12476, Jenny70529, Eaglesei, DaVinci13, vsky, Aidrianna, svcmc, ScullyAsTrinity, ToMyGrave, gabesaunt, DolphinAnimagus, AngelApple70x7, Teenwitch, Hayesfever, Mochaccino Love, SelenaXC, CPDCSI, A.Heiden, SmallWings, XakliaAeryn, tarrabeena, Triali, GracefulBee, CarbyluvYTDAW, barenakedrachel, princesspink, brainfear, Laura, berta101 **and thanks for the e-mails and recommendations!

Jazz


	13. A Long Journey Home

Headlights.

For the second time, Grissom was frozen in them. He could feel Catherine and Greg bustling around him and he could hear their questions. But he couldn't answer. He was sitting there, motionless, in the middle of the road, his shocked expression illuminated by the headlights on Catherine's Tahoe. Every few seconds, he bent over to give Sara another breath but other than that, he did nothing and he thought about nothing. It wasn't until Catherine shook him firmly that he came back into reality.

"Gil," Catherine said calmly. "Gil, talk to me."

"We're here, Grissom," came Greg's trembling voice. "We found you."

"Gil?"

"Grissom, what happened?"

He could answer now but at the same time, he couldn't. He didn't have time to. "She's not breathing!"Grissom told them, almost frantically. "Her lung collapsed. She can't move any air."

Catherine nodded quickly."We had a team standing by. I already called us in. They're sending an ambulance to meet us at the main road. Gil–"

"She's not breathing," Grissom said again, meeting Catherine's gaze. He searched her eyes and he realized that she was reading him, almost as well as Sara had. Almost. And in that moment, Grissom knew that Catherine could see the thousand emotions in his blue eyes. He knew that she could see how much pain he was in, how much he'd been through and how much he'd changed in those five long hours. Her gentle stare gave him strength. And he was sure that his stare told her _everything._

"Can she be moved?" Greg asked, looking up at Grissom with wide eyes.

"We have no choice," he replied, forcing himself into motion. "We have to go! We don't have time to talk right now."

"But she's not breathing–"

"We'll have to continue AR in the truck!"

Catherine's arm was under Sara's shoulders before Grissom could finish his sentence. Greg, on the other hand, was frozen in place. His face was almost as pale as Sara's and his mouth twitched nervously, as if he were trying to say something but nothing would come out. He just stared as the two older CSIs worked quickly, lifting their unconscious colleague with as much care as possible.

"I'll, uh, I'll get the door," Greg said slowly, his eyes fixed on Sara's limp form. He took a deep breath and then he snapped into action, running ahead a few feet to the Tahoe, opening the back door immediately upon arrival. When Grissom and Catherine arrived with Sara a few seconds later, Greg frantically crawled into the front passenger seat, leaning over to help position Sara in the back. He held her head and neck still while Grissom and Catherine settled her onto the seat.

"Good, Greg," Grissom said quickly, as he climbed in with Sara, hovering overtop of her. He didn't really have time to give out praise but he could see the growing fear in Greg's eyes and he needed his youngest CSI to stay calm and collected. As Catherine clambered into the driver's seat, Grissom briefly locked gazes with Greg, silently demanding that he keep it together.

Greg seemed to understand. He nodded and then looked back down at Sara. "She's bringing up blood," he muttered, remaining calm and choking back a cry. "There's so much of it."

Grissom looked down and, as a jolt of paralysing pain surged through his body, he realized that Greg was right. The blood no longer trickled gently from the corner of Sara's mouth. Instead, a steady, crimson stream now flowed across her chalk-white cheek and down along her neck, making a trail all the way to the two fingers Grissom had pressed against her throat.

"Internal bleeding, Greg," Grissom explained hoarsely, as he leaned in to give Sara a breath. He covered her mouth with his own and he gave her yet another gentle, controlled puff of air, sending all of his prayers with it. _Breathe, Sara,_ he silently cried, as he kept his fingers on her faint pulse. The weak beat under his fingertips was his only solace, the only thing that kept his own heart from stopping. But the beat was fading steadily and Grissom was already having a hard time finding it."Go Cath!" he called out. "She barely has a pulse. We need to go–now!"

"Stay with us, Sara," Catherine urged in a low, determined voice. She put the Tahoe into drive and then she slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. For Grissom, a haunting flashback accompanied the sudden movement and he had to do everything in his power not to flinch noticeably. Masking his fear, he gave Sara another breath and then trembling, he listened as the stones from the road slapped furiously against the bottom of the SUV.

"We don't have far to go, Griss," Greg said, still leaning over the seat. Grissom gave Greg a quick look and then moved to breathe for Sara again, keeping his steady rhythm. Then, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out one of the bandages he'd brought, immediately handing it over to Greg. "What do you want me to do?" Greg asked, his voice high and frantic.

"Wipe the blood away."

"Right."Greg nodded quickly and after Grissom gave Sara another breath, he ducked in, tenderly wiping at Sara's mouth and neck to remove the bright red trail. "Okay, I got it," he squeaked, withdrawing to give his supervisor room. Grissom nodded his thanks without breaking his focus.

"Breathe, Sara," Grissom whispered encouragingly, over and over again. As he continued the steady rhythm of artificial respiration, Grissom thought about his conversations with Sara, about the heartfelt words and feelings they had finally shared with each other, about the incredible way he had felt when he was telling her how much she meant to him. Every time his lips met her lips, he wondered if he would get the chance to feel that way again. He wondered if he _deserved_ to. He was pretty sure that he didn't but then again, he hadn't deserved two miracles either.

Greg reached for Sara's hand to squeeze it tightly. "How–how long has it been since–" He closed his eyes. "Since she stopped breathing?"

"Too long," muttered Grissom. "Too damn long."

"Oh–" Greg replied, his voice shaking. He clearly had no idea what to say to that."Well, we're almost there," he managed, a second later. Then, in a barely audible whisper, he added, "Hold on, Sara."

Grissom knew that he had to ignore Greg, even though the younger CSI's intentions were obviously good. It wasn't anything personal; Grissom just couldn't allow himself to think about anything or anybody other than Sara. He couldn't even think about how tired _he_ was getting or how his heart was beating out of control or how his own breathing had become so choppy that he was gasping for air.

"Do you want me to take over?" Greg asked meekly.

Grissom shook his head fiercely but it wasn't in response to Greg's offer. With a look of sheer determination on his face, Grissom somehow found the strength to intensify his efforts. "I'm not letting her do this," he faltered between gasps. "No way." He managed to suck in another breath and he immediately gave it to Sara, not bothering to take any air for himself.

"Do you want me to take over?" Greg asked again, his voice cracking this time.

Catherine jumped in. "You need a rest, Gil–"

"Dammit, Catherine!" Grissom shivered. "If we don't get her–"

"No!" Catherine stopped him, her tone sharp, distressed. "Just don't, Gil. The road is right here. It's right here!" And with those words, they emerged from the trees, racing unceremoniously out of the darkness.

Grissom didn't have time to celebrate his return to the world in any way at all. He didn't even think about it. In fact, as soon as the tires thudded against the tarmac, he was in action, gently lifting Sara's head and moving across the seat to open the door. His fingers grasped the handle just as Catherine slammed on the brakes, bringing the Tahoe to a skidding halt.

Grissom jumped out, instantly scanning the road with tired, bloodshot eyes. But there were no flashing lights to be seen."Where in hell is that ambulance?" He muttered loudly. He looked ahead into the brightening horizon, wondering if he'd finally come to a dead end. _This is it,_ he thought, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. _We've come so far and Sara fought so hard! It just can't end right here! Not when we're almost there! _Tears welled up in his eyes but he forced them back wildly, willing himself to concentrate."We need an ETA on that ambulance, Cath! We're running out of time!"

Catherine brought the radio to her lips, making the desperate plea, and Grissom ducked back into the SUV to give Sara another breath. Greg was still leaning over the front seat, holding Sara's limp hand in his own. "Should I take over?" he asked yet again, his voice very small. "I can do it, Griss. If you need me to."

_No. I need to do this,_ Grissom wanted to reply. But the sound of Catherine tearing back into the vehicle interrupted his thoughts. "Where are they?" he demanded, his eyes immediately searching his long-time friend's face for answers.

"They're sending a chopper!" Catherine replied, spitting the words out. "It's on the way right now. Should be here any minute!"

Grissom let out an erratic sigh and he rested his fingers on the side of Sara's neck, searching again for her fading pulse. "God, we're–we're losing her," he said breathlessly, shaking his head before giving Sara another breath. _I can't lose her. I won't lose her!_ he cried, in unspoken desperation. _Don't give up, Sara. Just hold on. For me._ "Come on, Sara. Come on," he said out loud, urging her to keep fighting while urging himself to do the same. "Come on–"

"Let us help," Catherine said firmly, her eyes surprisingly calm. With a reassuring nod, she moved to the other side of the Tahoe and she took Grissom's arm, tugging lightly to pull him away from Sara. "Greg and I can handle this," she said, speaking softly. "Just rest for a second, Gil. You've been through a lot."

He might have considered resting for just a minute but right then, Grissom realized that he felt nothing under his fingertips. _Nothing._ "No pulse–" he gasped out, his mind going blank as he shook Catherine's arm away. Grissom closed his eyes for a moment, trying to pull himself together. He really wasn't aware of anything he was doing but thankfully, his training kicked in and he snapped into command mode. "Get her on the ground!" he practically shouted, as he slipped his arms under Sara's shoulders and pulled her out towards him. Greg immediately jumped over the seat to guide Sara's legs out while Catherine grabbed the blanket and spread it out on the road.

"Put her down here," Catherine instructed, as she moved to help guide Sara's still from to the ground. They managed to set her down carefully and then all three CSIs dropped to their knees, wasting no time at all before beginning their frantic efforts to revive their friend. Catherine immediately positioned herself at Sara's head, clearing her airway while Grissom moved to start chest compressions, with despair in his eyes. Greg was lost somewhere in the middle, holding Sara's hand and calling to her gently, his face becoming paler by the second.

_Don't leave me, Sara_, Grissom begged, his words getting caught in his throat. _We got our miracle. You can't leave me now!_ As he pushed rhythmically on Sara's chest, Grissom could feel the last bit of hope leave his soul. He had been clinging to that lingering hope desperately but with every compression over Sara's heart, he felt it seep out of his tired body. _Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me. _He said those words silently to Sara with every compression and with every beat of his own heart.

Catherine gave Sara another breath, in time with Grissom's compressions, and then she moved her fingers to Sara's neck. After a moment, she lifted her head, shaking it softly. "Nothing," she whispered. "No response."

Greg bit his lip. "God, please," he said brokenly, desperately. "Please, no. Sara, come on!"

Grissom briefly met Greg's empty eyes as he continued working on Sara, pushing forcefully on her already damaged chest. He wondered how much the CPR would aggravate her internal injuries, even though he knew it wouldn't matter if they couldn't get her heart beating again. He could feel her broken ribs crack under his hands and it made him feel sick to his stomach. _I'm not hurting her,_ he had to keep telling himself, as he tried to block out reality.

A few seconds later, after Grissom finished another set of compressions, Catherine gave Sara another breath and checked her again. This time, when Catherine lifted her head, her face was wildly bright. "We got her," she cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's weak and I don't know how long it'll last but–"

Catherine's words were cut short by a rumble in the sky and Grissom looked up to see a helicopter approaching, a dark but hopeful shadow in the early morning light. But he knew better than to feel relieved at the sight. Sara was just barely holding on and he had no idea how far away the nearest hospital was. He could only pray that it was close and that it was equipped to deal with injuries as severe as Sara's.

When the helicopter landed, Grissom was immediately swept into a frenzy of activity.He no longer felt like himself at all. Instead, he felt like the world's smallest creature, insignificant and ignored. He almost felt betrayed when the paramedics burst out of the helicopter and took over. It was what he wanted, of course, but at the same time, Sara was being taken away from him, removed from his care. He would no longer be able to help her, to be with her and he hadn't really thought about that. So it took him by surprise when the paramedics shoved him aside, forcing him to feel useless, to just stand by and watch–as if he hadn't already done enough of that. All Grissom got to do was relay the details of the accident and Sara's condition. And just when he finished doing that, they were already loading Sara onto a stretcher, setting up IVs and giving her oxygen as they dashed towards the helicopter.

_They're taking her away from me!_ Grissom's heart sank. _They can't do that. I need to be with her. She needs me with her. They just can't do this. Not after all we've been through!_ Grissom was so distraught that he barely noticed that he'd started running after them.

"Gil! Wait!" Catherine called out from behind him.

But Grissom didn't stop. He ran over to the pilot, calling out loudly to him. "I'm riding with you!" He licked his lips nervously, watching as the paramedics loaded Sara into the helicopter. "I know about her injuries," Grissom explained. "I can help!"

The pilot shook his head. "We don't have room, sir. You'll have to meet us there!"

Grissom tried again. "Someone needs to go with her–"

"You need to let us do our job, sir!"

Grissom opened his mouth to respond but Catherine grabbed his arm, pulling him away. "Let them take her, Gil!" she yelled, her voice barely audible over the deafening noise. "Greg and I will get you there as fast as we can!"

"She's in good hands," added Greg.

_But she's not with me,_ Grissom wanted to say. But he knew that Catherine and Greg were right, so he allowed them to guide him away. And before he knew what was happening, he was sitting in the front seat of the Tahoe, with Catherine hovering over him, reassuring him that he did everything right, and that it would all be okay–somehow.

"They're taking her to Northwestern," Greg said, as the helicopter lifted off the ground and headed into the horizon. "It's about a half an hour drive from here. At least we got her back before–"

"She still wasn't breathing," Grissom interrupted, his voice flat. He closed his eyes, bringing his hand up to momentarily hide his emotions. "This just doesn't end," he whispered. "She's been through so much and there's still so far to go." He dropped his hand, looking into Catherine's eyes, hoping to find even more comfort and reassurance there. "I don't know how she's still holding on."

Catherine squeezed Grissom's arm. "I do," she said, as a small, encouraging smile curved her lips. "She's Sara. And–" She gave Grissom a gentle wink. "She's got a lot to live for."

Greg was still pale. "We need to get you to the hospital," he said, as he climbed into the backseat.

"You need to get checked out," Catherine said softly. She gave Grissom's arm another gentle squeeze and then walked around to the driver's seat, climbing in quickly. "What the hell happened out there?" she muttered. Grissom heard her words, but he didn't answer. He couldn't. Not yet.

For Grissom, the battle was over. And yet it was just beginning. As he sat quietly in Catherine's Tahoe, he felt the whole night catch up with him. He listened to the sound of the vehicle's engine–a soft, even hum–and he watched out his window as the sun rose in the sky. The stars were invisible now and Sara was getting farther and farther away from him. He could only pray that she still felt him with her, that she didn't feel as lonely and as isolated as he did.

Resting his head against the window, Grissom sighed. In his heart, he knew it was going to be a long journey home.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: I'm so sorry! This chapter took forever! I've been working on some other stories, some lighthearted, fun CSI stories, and I got a little too wrapped up in them! I want to finish this one before I post my next WIP, or at least get closer to finishing this one! Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews! You are all amazing! 

Special thanks to **Jenny70529, Anti-Social-Turtle**, **vsky, barenakedrachel, SmallWings, bythemoon, gabesaunt,** **Dizzy-Dreamer, Sunrays and Saturdays, svcmc, drakien, CSINut214, Denese25, Veronica, ToMyGrave, taramis, rokothepas, Mochaccino Love, CarbyluvYTDAW, CsiM.Csi.CsiNY.Wat., berta101, leddy, DaVinci13, tvspaz626, annieb, jtbwriter, tarrabeena, Almeida's-Angel24, Fiona Christie, LSI, silence89, CookieK2, Chicklit, snackattack, GracefulBee, Aidrianna, brainfear, Sidle Chick, naquada, DolphinAnimagus, princesspink, tori, jbr12476, Wiccagirl24, Bower, lalaforte, cjtylr74, Laura, Adenara Yatman** and anyone I missed. You're all so wonderful and I appreciate your support immensely! Thanks for sticking with me!

Jazz


	14. Powerless

The waiting room was cold and silent. In an uncomfortable chair in the farthest corner, Grissom sat, with his hands clasped together, his head bowed and his stomach in a thousand knots. It had been a half an hour since he had arrived at Northwestern hospital and in that short period of time, a million things had happened. At least, it seemed that way. Catching up to the world was more chaotic than Grissom could have ever imagined and he felt as if he'd been lost for a month rather than a night. There were so many questions he needed to ask and so many he needed to answer. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to focus on anything until he was by Sara's side again, holding her hand tightly in his own. So for now, the only thing he could do was wait.

And pray.

Catherine yawned beside him. "You doing okay, Gil?" she asked softly, bringing one hand up to squeeze his shoulder. Her touch was comforting, and so was her voice. But she wasn't _Sara_. So no matter how hard she tried, there was no way she could ever understand.

She just couldn't.

Grissom nodded to Catherine gratefully, knowing that it wasn't her fault and that she was doing her very best to ease his pain–a pain that could never be described in words. It was a silent pain, a dark, unspoken anguish that filled him completely and removed him from the world in an entirely different, spiritual way. Physically, he had returned. But in his heart and soul, he was still lost. And there was only one way he would truly be found again.

_Don't leave me, Sara,_ Grissom begged, his mind spinning with silent prayers. _I need you here. I can't do this without you. We're lost without each other. We always have been._ He knew it was true and he knew that if he was given one more chance–a chance he knew he didn't deserve–then he would never let Sara out of his sight again. He would never let her go. He would never let another chance go by and he would tell her how much he loved her and that he would be there for her, all day and all night. Anytime she could possibly need him–he would be there. He would be there forever. He just needed one more chance to prove it.

And he needed Sara to give him that chance.

Sara had been in surgery for almost an hour and only the trauma room nurses, who had worked on her when she first arrived, had any sort of news for Grissom. One nurse–who informed Grissom that Sara had him down as her next of kin and subsequently had him sign some forms–had even taken a few minutes to sit down next to him and tell him everything that she remembered about Sara's condition. It wasn't good news but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. According to the nurse, Sara was still putting up a strong fight when they took her into surgery. The trauma team had managed to get her stabilized quickly and, even though she hadn't completely regained consciousness, she was breathing–shallowly–on her own and she had squeezed one of the nurses hands lightly in response to her name. But the internal bleeding was extensive and so was the damage to her lung.

And it would be hours before they knew anything more.

Grissom had been processing the nurse's words ever since they left her mouth. He desperately wanted reassurance, a guarantee, a promise–anything to calm his nerves, to help him believe that Sara would come through it all with flying colours. He tried to remember the nurse's tone, wondering wildly if her voice held some sort of a secret, something vital that she hadn't shared with him. He didn't doubt that her intentions were good, or that her attempt to comfort him had been genuine and true, but he couldn't help feeling as if he wasn't getting the whole story–even though he knew that he couldn't _have_ the whole story. He couldn't–because nobody had it.

They were still in the middle of it.

Grissom sighed. If only he could write the ending. Or re-write the beginning. And the middle. He would go to any lengths, he would do absolutely anything to erase the whole night, to take away Sara's pain and suffering, to let it all be just a nightmare of epic proportions. If only he had that power. If only he could turn back time. If only he could see into the future–or at least into tomorrow. Then he would _know _something. And he wouldn't feel so misguided, so defeated.

_I don't know what's happening,_ Grissom thought to himself. _I'm powerless. I'm not in control. Of anything. And I want to be. God, I want to be. I want to write the happy ending. I have to. _Clenching his fists in fear and frustration, Grissom looked over at Catherine, who was still there, staring at him with the deep concern of a good friend. After a moment, her fingers found his and she pulled his cold hand open, taking it into her warm one.

"You look like hell," Catherine whispered, in a soothing yet stern voice. She gave his hand a squeeze, rubbing her thumb along the top of his fingers. "You need to be looked at."

"When Sara's out of surgery," Grissom quietly replied.

"No," Catherine said, as firmly as she could. "You need to do this now."

Grissom closed his eyes. "I know, Cath. But I just can't–"

"Sara's being taken care of," Catherine assured him. "And now you need to be taken care of too. I sent Greg to see if he can get some sort of an update. Anything." She paused. "But it could be awhile, and your injuries really can't wait. I'm going to go get a nurse and we'll get you a bed so you can be checked out–"

"I'm fine."

Catherine pursed her lips and she shook her head, her eyes scanning his injured body."You're _not_ fine," she said softly. And with a reassuring smile, she began checking him over herself, examining his swollen wrist and the cuts on his face and hands.Grissom let her do it, feeling too tired to argue and too weak to push her hands away. He sat there, in silence, as Catherine poked and prodded him and he watched her face, noting the confusion in her expression. She looked at everything very carefully and Grissom wondered if she was trying to piece together the entire night by studying his cuts and bruises. Just when he decided that Catherine was, indeed, reconstructing the accident in her head, he felt a stab of pain in his neck and he jumped. Catherine withdrew her fingers quickly.

"Sorry," she said, with a loud gasp. She leaned closer to take a better look as she ran her fingertips across the back of Grissom's neck again, being very gentle this time. She let out a sympathetic hiss as she traced around a large, bloody gash. "You're going to need stitches for this one," she sighed. "It's deep."

Grissom looked at her in surprise. "I–I didn't even notice it."

"Of course not," Catherine whispered, as she touched his arm lightly. Her comforting smile weakened and she winced. "Gil–you have a lot of bruises, you need stitches, and I think your wrist might be fractured. You need to see a doctor."

Grissom looked down at his purple, swollen wrist. "It doesn't hurt," he said slowly, distantly.

Catherine bit her lip. "You're numb. I know."

"Do you?"

"Do I?"

Grissom hesitated for a moment, clearing his throat. "Do you–do you _know?_" He was almost positive that she had a pretty good idea of what happened between him and Sara but he had to find out for sure.

Catherine stared hard into his eyes and she nodded. "I know," she breathed. "I could see it in your eyes the minute we found you." She smiled again–softly. "And I see it now."

Sighing, Grissom buried his face in his hands, tyring once again to hide his emotions. "I failed her, Catherine," he mumbled. "I let her down."

"If you're talking about the last couple of years then I might have to agree with you," replied Catherine. "But if you're talking about last night then I'm going to have to disagree. Strongly."

"I'm talking about both."

Catherine moved closer, placing her hand on his back. "First of all," she began, in a strong, steady voice. "Never look back. I told you that once before." She started rubbing slow circles on his back. "You may have been an insensitive ass in the past but I have a pretty good feeling that Sara saw through it. Otherwise, she would have left years ago." Catherine took a breath. "Second, and more importantly, Sara wouldn't have even made it here if it wasn't for you. You did everything _but_ fail her last night. She's a strong girl but with injuries that severe–" She licked her lips. "Well, lets just say, she was lucky that it was _you _with her–for many reasons."

Grissom lifted his head, shaking it. "I made a lot of mistakes," he said hoarsely. "I should have–"

"Don't look back, Gil," Catherine said again, quickly. "It doesn't matter now. You got her here alive. You were with her when she needed you the most."

_But Sara needed me a long time ago too,_ Grissom thought to himself, although he knew Catherine was right–it didn't make any sense to keep thinking about the past. He didn't have the power to change it, after all. He could only learn from his mistakes and vow never to make them again. He was good at making silent vows. He'd already made a lot of them that night. And he was making yet another one when Greg arrived in the waiting room, wearing an empty look on his face.

"Hey," Greg said tiredly, as he slumped down in the chair across from his supervisor. The young CSI took a moment to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand and clear his throat before turning to Grissom and Catherine. "No one would tell me anything," he said, in a strained voice. He bowed his head. "I, uh, I called Nick and Warrick to fill them in," he told them. "They're on their way to the accident site with Brass. They've been in contact with the county sheriff and they're going to help figure everything out. They said they'd be here to check up on Sara as soon as they could." Greg looked up, making eye contact with Grissom. "They're, uh, they're praying for her, Griss. We all are."

"Thanks, Greg," whispered Grissom. "Nicky and Warrick are okay?"

"Yeah. They're upset, understandably, but they're holding it together."

Grissom nodded slowly, looking from Greg to Catherine. "When did you figure out we were missing?" he asked, almost timidly.

"When the sheriff called, looking for you," Greg replied. "I was trying to call your cell with results from the evidence you had me process but I couldn't get through. I figured you couldn't get a signal so I waited. But then the sheriff called and said you were late. He couldn't get through to you either." Greg paused for a second and he gave Grissom a weak smile. "So then we started to worry because you and Sara would be the last people on earth to ditch a crime scene. We, uh, we thought–"

"We all figured you were lost," Catherine said, jumping in. "Greg told us that you said you'd be in touch and when you didn't call, we decided to send out a search party. Well, a few search parties. I was on my way home when Greg told me what was going on, so he and I were able to come right out here. We met up with the sheriff and he sent out a few cars to look for you as well. But we chose the right road to search."

"Apparently, it's very easy to get lost on those back roads," Greg added quietly.

"Apparently," Grissom muttered. He took a deep, calming breath. "What about the case?"

Catherine shook her head, her eyes showing her disbelief. "Only you," she sighed, still rubbing his back softly. "Don't worry about the case. The sheriff ended up calling in someone else. He's probably not going to be as good as you, of course, or me for that matter, but he'll have to do." She winked at Grissom. "It's _your_ case we should be worried about."

"It's not a case," Grissom said, with a sad shrug. "That truck could be anywhere by now. And the person driving it probably doesn't even realize that they ran us off the road. There's not a lot of evidence to work with." He dropped his head into his hands again. "And I, uh, I really can't think about that right now."_I can't think about anything or anyone but Sara,_ he added to himself._ Nothing else matters right now. Nothing. I should have never even asked about the case because it doesn't matter at all. Nothing does. Nothing. Only Sara. So why can't I stop thinking about the accident? Why? Why did any of this happen at all?_

"That's alright," Catherine told him. "You don't have to talk about it until you're ready."

"I–" Grissom inhaled sharply, his hands muffling the sound. "I couldn't do anything, Cath."

"What do you mean?"

"The accident–" Grissom whispered, as a lump formed in his throat. "There was nothing I could do. I felt so powerless. I couldn't stop it from happening. And then when it did happen, I couldn't help her."

Catherine looked confused. "Are you _ready_ to talk about this?"

Grissom sat up, meeting her gaze. His eyes were full of tears–tears that would never, ever spill over. Not if he could help it. As he fought back those tears, he opened his mouth, willing some sort of sound to come out. He hoped for distinct words, for sentences, for clearly expressed thoughts but he knew better than to expect that. And he would never know really, if what he was saying made any sense at all. He knew that he was saying _something,_ something about the accident, but his mind wasn't there. His mind and his heart were preoccupied with thoughts of Sara, with prayers for her, with love.

_I'm waiting for you, Sara. Just like you waited for me. And I won't leave. I'll never leave you. Just give me the chance to prove it to you._ As he tried to silently communicate with Sara, Grissom was completely unaware as the time went by, as another few hours of waiting faded away. Catherine and Greg came and went, one at a time, and they brought him food and coffee that he never touched. They talked to him, they reassured him, they sat with him while a doctor tended to his injuries, they made phone calls, they worried, and Grissom was never really _there_ for any of it. But he came back–completely–the moment he saw a doctor, in tired-looking blue scrubs, enter the waiting room.

"Dr. Grissom?"

Grissom stood up, moving faster than he had in his whole life. Catherine and Greg were right behind him. "Yes?" he said, his voice nearly breaking.

The doctor approached, extending his hand. "Hi, I'm Dr. Bennett. I'm assisting in the OR."

Barely breathing, Grissom shook the doctor's hand with his good one. "How's Sara?" he asked, forcing the words out. His heart thumped wildly in his chest and his whole body felt heavy as he searched the doctor's eyes.

"Miss Sidle is still in surgery," the doctor said slowly, just before his lips curved into a small smile. "But we wanted to let you know that she's doing very well and as of right now, we expect to have her out of there within the next hour or two."

And suddenly, Grissom felt as if he weighed nothing at all.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, so I didn't want to leave this one as a cliffhanger because I think I've made you all worry enough already ;) I also wanted to put a little happiness into this chapter because everything was so sad! And for anyone who is still worried about Sara–the next chapter is going to be her POV! (Hint). Thanks to everyone who is reading this and thanks for all the reviews! 

Special thanks to **Wanda57, ToMyGrave, svcmc, Chicklit, jtbwriter, Denese25, Dizzy-Dreamer, vsky, GracefulBee, Miss Adelon, jbr12476, Sidle Chick, cjtylr74, barenakedrachel, leddy, DaVinci13, susanmary, lalaforte, Aidrianna, csiobsessed, GSBS4L, LSI, gabesaunt, Caro, DolphinAnimagus, Lanta, Aimee5, CookieK2, Lily of the Shadow, CarbyluvYTDAW, tvspaz626, silence89, Veronica, brainfear, Katia, sara kicks ass, angstyotaku, SaraSidle78** and anyone I missed!

Thanks,

Jazz


	15. Whispers

The comforting voice.

Or the comforting light.

Sara wasn't sure which one came first but as her eyelids began to flicker wildly, she realized that she didn't care. If her eyes and her ears were working together, in unison, to pull her out of the thick, grey cloud that consumed her entirely, then she would be more than happy to give equal credit to both senses. She just wanted to escape her dark, silent world. It didn't really matter how it happened–as long as it did. And the sooner the better.

_I'm floating,_ Sara realized, as she battled her way through the fog, towards the anxious but gentle voice that called to her and the bright, intermittent light._ Floating. Floating. Floating in fuzziness. But why is everything so fuzzy?_ she wondered. _And why can't I go any faster? _Sara began to ponder her questions, thinking up possible explanations for her current state. But it was hard to think–_very_ hard, and she was too impatient to deal with her hazy brain. So she concentrated on one, desperate thought. _I have to get out of this place!_ she told herself. _Follow the voice. Get out of the dark. Turn on the light. Listen to the voice!_

Sara listened.

And her eyelids flickered, again and again. The light started to come in quick flashes and the voice became louder, stronger, _closer._ Sara started to feel very connected to that voice. As she followed it devotedly, she began to feel very heavy, and she wondered briefly if the voice was transforming her and pulling her into a completely different realm. _That would be okay,_ she decided, feeling warm all of a sudden. _As long as I get away from here. As long as I reach that voice. I need to get there! If I don't, then I may never be found again. _

So she tried to relax and she allowed the voice to guide her through, even though she became more confused when she started to feel even heavier–and achy. _It hurts!_ she gasped and hissed to herself, as the achiness turned, almost instantly, into distinct pain. She wanted to cry out but she was still trapped in silence. _Make it stop,_ she tried to beg the voice. _This isn't supposed to happen, is it? Why does it hurt? Make it stop! Please!_

Sara was almost ready to halt her journey, in an effort to stop the pain, when she realized that the comforting voice sounded very familiar. _That can't be right,_ she thought, ignoring the pain for a moment. _I don't know anyone in that other world. I don't know anyone in this one either. How could that voice be familiar if I only know myself? And I don't even know myself, really._ Sara was puzzled but somehow, she still knew that the voice was familiar and that she was connected to it. _I have to reach it,_ she reminded herself. _No matter how painful it gets._

She decided to listen closely, to focus with every ounce of energy she had. That was the best strategy, she realized. It was the only thing she could do to get through the fog and the pain and reach her destination. If she kept on listening to the voice, then perhaps she would be able to figure out where she was going–and where she'd been.

"Come on, honey," the voice was saying softly. "You're almost there. You're doing great." The voice paused for a second and then Sara felt a little bit of pressure on her fingers. It was a careful but insistent squeeze and with it came the realization that the voice was so much more than a voice. "Can you squeeze back, Sara?"

_I can feel it,_ Sara wanted to cheer. _I feel you there! _She tried to move her fingers, to squeeze in reply, but she couldn't manage it. _So heavy,_ she grumbled silently. _But if I concentrate, then I might be able to do it._ As she tried to focus on moving her fingers, the voice, and the soft, urgent touch came again..

"Sara? Can you hear me? I'm right here, honey."

_I can hear you! I'm trying to squeeze back. _She tried to form the words, but there was something in her throat, something that felt odd and thick, something that blocked her speech. _I can't squeeze and I can't talk, but I can hear you. What's going on? Are you lost too? _As Sara tried to make sense of what was being said to her, one particular word stood out.

_Honey._

Sara's heart started to beat at a faster pace, a pace so fast that she was sure she could _hear_ it. It seemed far away but for some reason, she could make out a beeping sound. It came in a quick rhythm, matching the rapid thump in her chest. _That's odd,_ she thought, as she struggled to listen. The noise was becoming louder, the pressure on her hand was becoming stronger and Sara was _sure_ that she felt even more connected to the voice that called to her. _I'm trying,_ she wanted to cry out. _I'm trying to get to you!_ _I'm trying to understand why you're so familiar!_

_Honey._

She thought about it again–carefully. And then, suddenly, she_ knew_! She knew where she was going and where she'd been and who was sitting there next to her, waiting for her. _Grissom!_ Sara's heart fluttered wildly, along with her heavy eyelids. _Grissom, I'm here! _She tried to move her fingers again, forcing every little bit of energy she had into her fingertips. _Tell me you feel that! Tell me I'm not dreaming this!_

"Sara?" Grissom's voice faltered. "God, Sara–"

_Griss? Did you feel it?_

"Sara–"

_I hear you, Griss. I feel you. And I want to be with you! _

"That's it, Sara. It's okay. You're going to be okay."

Sara forced her eyes open just as an intense, shooting pain rattled her entire body. _I'm here,_ she thought, bracing herself against the agony. _It hurts. But I'm here._ A low moan escaped her lips as she searched for Grissom's face in the white fuzziness. She could still feel his fingers, stroking her hand–and now her hair–gently, but her eyes couldn't find him. _Griss! Where are you?_ she panicked. _Grissom! _She could feel herself shaking in pain and in fright. _I need to see you!_

"Honey, do you know where you are? Just squeeze my hand if you do. Do you know, Sara?"

_I would if I could see you! _she silently replied, as she fought to focus on the shadowy shapes that were starting to appear in front of her. She noticed that some of the shapes were moving, and she quickly became aware of the fact that other people that were now gathering around her._ I see them,_ she realized._ But where is Grissom?_ She tried to force air into her lungs, and just when she was about to lose herself in a full out panic attack, she slowly turned her head.

And there he was.

_Grissom._ Hot tears instantly flooded Sara's eyes. _He's here!_ His face wasn't quite clear yet, but she knew it was him, and she knew that he wasn't going to go anywhere. She squeezed his hand again, indicating that she knew where she was and that it meant everything to her that he was there.

_Hospital. I'm in the hospital, Grissom. And I'm with you._

"Okay, Sara," Grissom said gently, in a hoarse voice. It sounded like he hadn't slept in a month, and as Sara searched his face, she realized that he looked that way too. Putting one soft, warm hand against her cheek, the very tired-looking and tired-sounding Grissom continued. "You're going to be fine," he whispered. "Just stay with us for a little while."

She was about to attempt to reply when a few other people stepped closer to her, some wearing white and some wearing blue. In Sara's hazy view, they looked like one giant, fluffy cloud that surrounded her. She tried to listen to what the cloud-people had to say but she found herself completely focussed on Grissom. He locked gazes with her, stroking her cheek and her hand while the cloud-people worked on her. She wasn't quite sure yet what was going on with those strange people but she definitely knew that she had been in an accident and that she was in the hospital._ I was hurt badly,_ Sara reminded herself, as her head started to clear and the memories came flooding back.

_Stars. Headlights. Flying. Accident. Pain. Stay awake. Hard to breathe. Listen to Grissom. He wants me. He needs me. He loves me. Hold onto that hope. Sleep._

At first, she could only remember pieces, but it wasn't long until she remembered all of the pain, the lost hope, the fear in her heart and every word that Grissom had said to her. She remembered all of it, despite the concussion. And as she stared hard into Grissom's eyes, she realized that she could see the whole night in them.

She was tempted to search those blue eyes forever but a very bright light brought her back into the present and she let out another deep moan. The cloud-people were now clearly recognizable as doctors and nurses and they were hovering closer and closer. Sara tightened her grip on Grissom's fingers. _Stop it,_ she wanted to cry out, as the bright light was forced again into her eyes. But the thick obstruction in her throat prevented her from forming any words at all. _It's a tube,_ she noted suddenly._ To help me breathe._ Her eyes widened. _I wasn't breathing on my own! _Sara turned away from the light to look at Grissom and he rested one gentle hand against her forehead.

"Pupils look good," one doctor announced, a split second later.

"Good breath sounds," said another. "The lung is holding up well."

"Heart rate and pressure are stable," came the first voice again. "Miss Sidle?"

_Call me Sara,_ she thought sluggishly, as she turned–reluctantly–away from Grissom's reassuring eyes to look at the fuzzy blue doctor.

The doctor smiled briefly at her before launching into a detailed description of her condition. Sara only heard half of it, her favourite part being: "Things are looking good. We're going to take the tube out of your throat so you can breathe on your own." After that, he gave her a few instructions, that seemed to come out in nothing more than a mumble, and before Sara knew it, she was coughing and gagging as the uncomfortable tube came out. Grissom was right at her ear the entire time, talking her through it and showing how much he cared. He was ready with a cup of water, and he helped her raise it to her lips.

"Only a little bit," he advised softly, as he brushed her hair away from her face.

Sara took a little sip. The water felt wonderful as it trickled down her raw throat and she immediately nodded her head to Grissom, wanting more. After taking another small sip, she rested her cheek against Grissom's palm, leaning into him and letting out a pain-filled, raspy sigh. "Griss–"

"Shhhh," Grissom stopped her. "Just rest, Sara," He smiled broadly and his eyes were bright red with unshed tears. "Don't worry, we have all the time in the world to talk," he told her warmly. "I'm not going anywhere." He tightened his grip on her hand and she nodded weakly.

_So tired,_ Sara mumbled to herself. _But how can I be tired when I just woke up? I don't want to sleep. I want to talk to Grissom. We have so much to talk about. _Her eyelids flickered. _Stop that!_ _I want to stay awake! _She groaned desperately. "Griss, I don't–" She gritted her teeth as another jolt of pain crashed through her. "That–uh, it hurts–"

His thumb caressed the top of her hand. "They've given you something to help ease the pain," he explained, his voice still in a whisper. "It's going to put you to sleep again, for a little while, so you can rest and get better. But I'm not leaving you, honey. I'll be right here when you wake up."

_They gave me something? I don't remember that!_ Sara's world was starting to become fuzzy again. _I don't need to sleep, dammit! I need to stay with Grissom! _She bit her lip, fighting the urge to cry out, but a moan escaped. "Grissom–"

"I'm right here, Sara. I've got you." His whisper was fading.

"Griss–Grissom," she sighed, forcing the words out as she drifted away. "Thanks," she breathed. "Thanks for getting me here, Griss."

He didn't reply. Instead, Sara felt his lips brush gently against her tear-stained cheek. Then, with another weak sigh, she closed her eyes and the lights quickly went out again. But Grissom's soft, comforting whispers remained, and even in her deepest sleep, Sara was sure she could still hear them. He was there with her. And he wasn't going to leave.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: Hi! Sorry again for the long wait! It took awhile to get this chapter going but it was so much fun writing Sara's thoughts again! The next chapter will have everyone in it, including Nick, Warrick and Brass, who have yet to play a big part in this story :) Thanks for all the support! I love writing this story and I'm so happy that you guys are reading it! 

Special thanks to: **DaVinci13, jtbwriter, kjt1, LSI, ToMyGrave, sara kicks ass, drakien, Miss Adelon, berta101, Aimee5, jbr12476, leddy, Aidrianna, Chicklit, gabesaunt, tvspaz626, Adenara Yatman, DolphinAnimagus, Almeida's-Angel24, csiobsessed, snackattack, Trialia, GracefulBee, lalaforte, Lanta, Lin, Wiccagirl24, Sidle Chick, silence89, CarbyluvYTDAW, tarrabeena, Sonoali** and anyone I missed!

Thanks!

Jazz


	16. A Family Reunion

Grissom stood in the main lobby of Northwestern hospital, with his mind still upstairs in Sara's room. Beside him, Catherine sipped at a cup of coffee, her eyes glued to the revolving doors in front of them. They didn't speak, for there was nothing to say right then, as the two of them waited for Warrick, Nick and Brass to meet them. They would arrive any minute now, and Grissom prayed that they would be there soon, so he could go back upstairs to sit with Sara, who had been fading in and out of consciousness for the last few hours. He would have stayed there with her, had it not been for her doctor, who insisted that Grissom leave so that Sara could be checked over. Grissom just hoped that the doctor would be gone when he went back upstairs. Being away from Sara–for even five minutes–was proving to be more than difficult for him. He'd been by her side ever since she came out of surgery, and when he had to leave her, he felt the despair of the previous night all over again.

Grissom had managed to find some comfort in the dependable pattern he'd immersed himself in. He would sit there, right beside Sara, watching her sleep. Every so often, he would study her heart monitor, and he would check to see if any of her IV bags needed to be replaced. And once in awhile, Sara's dull brown eyes would open a little bit and she'd whisper "I love you" to him. Then she would give him a few weak smiles and go on to whisper a few wonderful things about morphine and how much she also loved _it._ But, before she fell asleep again, she always managed to remind him–barely audibly–that she loved him even _more_ than the morphine and not to worry because she would always feel that way.

"Morphine is good," she said dreamily, at one point. "But you–Griss, God. Yes, _you_, you're, uh, you're better. _Way_ better. I love you more. And that–well, um, hmmm, yes, that's, uh, that's sayin' something."

"Just rest, Sara. I'm not going anywhere,"Grissom would tell her, over and over again, as he stroked her hair gently. He'd very felt guilty as he sat there, listening to her declare her love for him, knowing that she meant it but also knowing that she probably didn't mean to actually _say_ it. Grissom had wanted desperately to say it back, but Sara wasn't really coherent and she wouldn't remember. And he had decided, long ago, that the first time he said 'I love you' to Sara Sidle would have to be a moment that neither one of them would ever forget. He'd thought deeply about it one night while he watched her work, dreaming of the way things would be if he could just open his damn mouth and tell her how he felt. But now, their relationship was a reality, and even though Grissom was sure that Sara already knew how much he loved her, he still wanted that moment–for Sara _and_ for himself.

The only time Grissom ever left Sara's side was when he was forced to, either by doctors or nurses or by Catherine, who was so obviously worried about him. Whenever he saw her, concern would fill her eyes and she would silently beg him to take a break, to get some fresh air, to clear his mind. But he had only listened to her once, and that was just five minutes ago, when Catherine and Sara's doctor had plotted together to get him out of the small room.

"I'm glad you finally see the light," Catherine had told him, as she led Grissom down the hall. "You need rest too, you know. You're not indestructible."

"I'm fine," Grissom had replied, in a rather sharp tone. "And I'm going back in there as soon as the doctor comes out."

Catherine had given him the longest sigh in the world. "Go home, Gil. Take a shower and a short nap and _then_ go back in."

Grissom hadn't replied to that. Instead, he'd given her shoulder a 'thanks anyway' pat and then he'd made his way to the washrooms on that floor, washing up in one of the sinks. Leftover blood and dirt had come cascading off of his face and he had been surprised, watching the thick combination swirl down the drain. He had forgotten. Almost.

When he'd emerged from the washroom, Catherine was there waiting for him, gesturing towards the pay phone across the hall. "I just called Brass. He's on his way over with Nick and Warrick. They'll be here in ten."

"Did you tell them to come up to the lounge?"

"No, I told them we'd meet them downstairs. Let's go."

And now Grissom found himself in the lobby, after being forced down there by Catherine and her very insistent glare. To Catherine's obvious relief, he'd gone out to get a breath of fresh air and now he was back inside, and _very_ ready to go back upstairs.

"They're here," Catherine finally announced, guiding Grissom closer to the door. Warrick Brown, Nick Stokes and Jim Brass wasted no time coming in, and Grissom even felt a gust of wind as they dashed towards him.

Nick's face was as pale as Greg's had been hours earlier. "How is she, Grissom?" he asked, immediately searching the older CSI's tired eyes. "Have you talked to her doctor?"

"Greg paged us with an update earlier," added Warrick. "But it was brief–"

Brass looked so tired and concerned that it seemed as if he'd aged ten years in one night. _Funny,_ Grissom thought wryly. _He looks exactly the way I feel._

"Where is she now?" the detective asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Why don't we all head up to the lounge and I'll fill you in," suggested Catherine. "Greg's up there, sleeping. And it's right around the corner from Sara's room."

Nick's eyes were hopeful. "She's been transferred to her own room?"

"Temporary room–we hope," whispered Grissom. "She's in the ICU, Nicky."

Nick's face seemed to cave in. "Dammit," he breathed. "God, Sar–"

"I'm sure Greg told you that her injuries are severe, and they are, but she's doing okay right now," Catherine assured him. "She woke up, and she's been talking to Grissom off and on. They're keeping her heavily sedated so she hasn't been very coherent."

Nodding, Nick let out a shaky breath."When did she get out of surgery?"

"Awhile ago. They kept her in recovery for about an hour and then they moved her to the ICU."

"Can we see her?"

"We're not family," sighed Catherine. "Grissom's allowed in, but only because he's her emergency contact."

_And because I love her,_ Grissom added silently. "We _are_ her family," he breathed, knowing that his statement was completely true. "I'll see what I can do to get you guys in. Even for a few seconds." He pressed his lips together and he cleared his throat. "Sara needs to know that you're all here. It'll make a difference."

Nick and Warrick nodded, but Brass just stared at Grissom. "Are _you_ okay, Gil?" he asked softly, his gaze resting on Grissom's wrapped wrist. "Is it fractured?"

Grissom shook his head. "Sprained."

"_Badly_ sprained," clarified Catherine. "He's got some deep cuts and some pretty nice bruises too."

Brass nodded. "And let me guess, he hasn't had any rest at all?"

_I'll rest when you all leave me alone!_ Grissom thought, angrily. _I'll rest when I know for sure that Sara's not going to leave me! I'll rest when she's safe at home–with me!_ He tried to calm himself, clenching his fists and taking a few deep, controlled breaths. He wasn't angry with any of them, really. In fact, he was comforted by the presence of the rest of his team. He just couldn't be away from Sara any longer. "Let's go upstairs," he said, being as placid as he could. Then he turned around and headed down the hall towards the elevators.

"Grissom, wait up!" Nick called out. He jogged to catch up while Warrick, Catherine and Brass trailed a bit behind. The three of them were talking under their breath, Catherine explaining what she knew about Sara's surgery and her current condition, and Brass telling her what he knew about the accident site and the little bit of evidence they had collected from it. Warrick jumped in here and there, adding helpful bits of information. Grissom tried not to listen, but it felt like his ears were working without his permission, straining to tune into the whispered conversation.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Catherine was saying, her voice low. "But the doctors are very optimistic. As long as there isn't any more internal bleeding–"

"What about the concussion?" interrupted Warrick.

"Severe, but there wasn't any bleeding in her brain, thank God."

"And no amnesia?" inquired Brass.

Catherine sighed. "No. She was talking to Gil right when she came out of the anaesthetic. She remembers what happened to her."

"All of it?"

"From what Gil has told me, yes. But I don't know for sure. What I _do_ know is that Sara's a fighter. We all know that. And if anyone can come through this with flying colours, it's her." Catherine let out another gentle sigh and her voice became even quieter. "So what did you guys find? Anything?"

Grissom could hear Warrick clear his throat. "Man, I don't know, Cath. Nothing good _enough,_ that's for sure. The sheriff's team are still working on it. We assessed the damage to the Tahoe and we have the tire treads, but other than that–"

_Other than that, you have nothing,_ Grissom finished in his head. _Nothing at all. There's nothing there to find!_ Spinning around quickly, Grissom met Warrick's gaze. "Let's just focus on Sara," he said firmly."I don't think we need to be doing this."_Nothing else is important right now._

Brass moved closer to Grissom, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We just want to find out what happened," he said softly. "We want to find the person who's responsible for this."

"Responsible for _what?_"spat Grissom, as he shrugged away from Brass' hand. "For nearly killing Sara?"

Nick winced. "Griss–"

"Well, you found him," Grissom continued, grumbling the words out. "_I'm _responsible, okay?"

Nick tried again. "Grissom–"

Grissom pressed on, shaking his head in dismay. "The person who ran us off the road is long gone and likely, he'll never know what happened to us. _I'm_ the one who was driving. _I_ was the one with Sara. _I_ made the decisions that brought her here–good _and_ bad."

"You can't blame yourself," Catherine said calmly, as they arrived at the elevators. "And I know you know that because we've already been through this." She pressed the call button, and in a stony stare, Grissom watched it immediately light up. In that moment, he couldn't look up at his colleagues, his friends, his _family._ No, he couldn't look at anything but the small circle of light. For some reason, it was comforting.

"Let's just go upstairs," Grissom whispered.

And they did.

_I need to be with Sara,_ was Grissom's only thought as they rode up the elevator in silence. _I need to be by her side, not wandering the halls. I need to be with her, not away from her! _When they got out, spilling into the quiet main hallway of the ICU floor, Grissom quickly led the way down the hall, towards Sara's room, stopping at the lounge where Greg was sleeping off his exhaustion. Looking in for a moment, Grissom noticed that the younger man was sprawled across several chairs, his face still tight with worry, even though he was sleeping deeply.

"We'll be right here, Gil," Catherine said quietly, waving Nick, Warrick and Brass into the lounge. The three men went in and then took seats, situating themselves around Greg's makeshift bed while Catherine remained at Grissom's side."It's okay if you can't get us in to see Sara," she told Grissom, her eyes clear and soft. "Just give her our love and our prayers, and let her know that we're out here." She smiled then, eyeing the empty Styrofoam cup that sat next to one of Greg's chairs. "And let her know that Greg has been drinking lukewarm, no-name brand hospital coffee for her. That'll mean a lot."

Grissom managed a faint, grateful smile. "I will. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Catherine replied uneasily. "At least _consider_ going home for a few hours?"

With a small shrug, Grissom pointed at Greg. "Why don't you talk to him about that for awhile? It looks like he would benefit more from rest than I would."

Catherine reached for Grissom's arm, squeezing it gently."Look, I'm just trying to help."

"I know," he breathed, his chin twitching. "I'm uh, I'm sorry–"

"No need to apologize," Catherine said, stopping him. "If you're not going to go home then just get in there and see her, okay?"

"Thanks, Cath."

Catherine gave his arm another squeeze, then she released it from her grasp. At the same time, she gave him a smile that was both sly and sympathetic."Don't screw up," she said softly, and then she turned to head into the lounge.

_Are you kidding?_ Grissom said to himself, as he walked away. _If I lost Sara now, especially because of my own stupidity, then–_ He couldn't even finish that thought. It wasn't even a possibility. Sara had come through hell and back, for him and for herself, and there was no way Grissom was going to let anything come between them now. _I love her. I've always loved her. And that's never, ever going to change. The only thing that's going to change is that now, I'm going to do something about it!_

Slipping quietly into Sara's room, Grissom eyed her small-looking, blanket-covered form.The younger woman lay still in the bed, her chest rising and falling evenly. He crept closer on stiff, tired legs, staring at the thin tubes that ran into her nose, providing extra oxygen so she wouldn't have to put too much stress on her repaired lung. After a moment, his gaze shifted to the cuts and bruises on her forehead, the dark red, blue and purple marks causing him to shudder involuntarily. The deepest cut, the one Grissom had managed to bandage out in the middle of nowhere, had been stitched into a thin line, and it was now an angry, crusty red. He wondered why there wasn't a bandage over it now. He knew that Sara wouldn't be happy when she saw it. He knew that she wasn't going to be happy about any of her injuries. But at least she had him to help her get through it. And he had her.

"Hey,"came a weak whisper, as Grissom collapsed into the chair next to Sara's bed. "You're–you're back–"

Grissom's eyes immediately found Sara's, and then his fingers found her limp hand. "I'm here, honey. I'm sorry I had to leave, but I wasn't gone for long," he breathed, his heart racing. He hadn't realized that she was awake and now his mind was spinning, searching for the right words to say. "How are you feeling?" he asked, immediately regretting the question. He already knew the answer.

"I feel great, Griss," she mumbled. "They, uh, they gave me more, uh, more stuff." A small, sleepy smile curved her pale lips. "More morphine."

"Yeah, I'll bet they did," Grissom said, reaching with his free hand to brush her hair back, away from her face. That particular action was becoming very normal for him. He did it instinctively now. "So you're not in any pain?"

Sara blinked rapidly, as if she were trying to stay awake. That _also_ seemed like a normal action. "No. No pain. It's, um, great."

"Well, they're keeping you pretty heavily sedated right now," Grissom explained, wondering if she could understand what he was saying. "It's so your body can heal faster. And the faster you start to heal, the sooner we can get you transferred to Desert Palm."

Sara's glazed-over eyes opened a little wider. "Do _they _have morphine?"

Grissom chuckled. "Don't worry, Sara. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

"Thanks, Grissom," she whispered, as she pressed her cheek weakly into his palm. "You, uh, you know what?"

"What?"

"I, um, I wouldn't trade you for anything," Her eyelids closed. "Not even for–for morphine."

"I think I knew that."

"Good."

Leaning forward, Grissom dropped a delicate kiss on her cheek. "You keeping fighting, Sara," he told her. "Everyone's here to support you. Catherine and Greg are still here, out in the lounge, and Warrick, Nicky and Brass arrived a little while ago. It's like a family reunion out there, and they're all anxious to see you."_A family reunion?_ At first, Grissom was surprised by his own words, but then he realized that he wasn't. A family reunion was exactly what it was. If only it could be a happier one.

Sara, who apparently still had a light grasp on consciousness, sighed. "I want to, um, to see them too."

"You will. You just need to get some more rest first. They'll wait as long as they need to. Greg hasn't even left to get a good cup of coffee. He's drinking the no-name stuff in the lounge. Catherine told me to tell you that. Greg's asleep now. He's been really worried about you. We've all been really worried about you."

"Where–" Sara slurred. "What? Greg's lounge? They're here?

_She's struggling. She won't be awake much longer now,_ Grissom realized. "Sleep, honey," he encouraged her. "It's okay to let yourself rest." _I'm such a hypocrite! How can I tell her that and refuse to let myself do it?_

Sara didn't reply at all. Her eyelids didn't even flutter. She was asleep again and Grissom was actually relieved. He wanted so desperately to talk to her, to reveal more of the feelings he had been keeping stashed away, deep inside. But he knew that it was better if she slept. Perhaps it really would be better if he slept a little too. He decided he would, but only if he could do it in the chair, right next to Sara's bed.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks again for all the reviews and recommendations, both for this story and for "Old Haunts." The feedback has been great and I know I say this every time, but your support means a lot to me and I appreciate it so much! I mean that! So many reviews have been very touching and so supportive and I thank you so much for all of them! My profile page will have my special thanks, because I'm unsure of the new rules about long author's notes/thanks. If someone could fill me in on that subject, I would greatly appreciate it. 

Thanks!

Jazz


	17. Gentle Rain

Sara awoke to a wonderful sound.

A gentle voice, low and steady, breezed softly through the air, tickling at her ears. It was a familiar voice–one that was with her when she was awake and when she was asleep, and also when she was in between the two, drifting in the dense fog of semi-consciousness. She was sure that the familiar voice was her anchor, and she was a ship, saved–at the very last minute–from sinking into the deep, dark depths. Yes, she was _saved_, in every way imaginable. She was being patched up and pulled home, and she was learning that every time she opened her eyes, Grissom, with his soft, familiar voice, would be there. Her eyelids fluttered and she sighed happily at that thought, listening carefully as she forced herself into consciousness. Her ears continued to soak in his wonderful voice.

He was reading to her, the written words tumbling out of his mouth with subtle passion, with ease. When Sara finally managed to pry one eye open and look over at him, she noticed that the first few buttons of his shirt were undone and that his glasses had slipped down his nose. He looked crumpled and exhausted and completely adorable. Her fingers reached for his.

"Griss," she whispered weakly, her voice so rough that it surprised her. "Wh–what are you reading?"

He looked up quickly and he pushed his glasses back up his nose, his eyes sparkling through the smudged lenses. "Hi, honey," he breathed, as his hand moved to her cheek. His fingertips brushed her cool skin affectionately. "How are you feeling?"

Sara took a slow breath. She had two answers to that question–one for herself and one for Grissom. _I feel like crap,_ she said silently, but out loud, she said: "Much better." She knew she probably didn't _look_ any better, but she thought she'd give it a try anyway.

But just as she expected, Grissom studied her and he shook his head. "You're due for some more morphine," he said, clearly not believing her. "They're easing you off of it, but it's been awhile since–"

"I'm sure a nurse will be in soon," Sara finished for him, smiling faintly. "I'm okay. The pain isn't as bad as before."_And that's not really a lie,_ she told herself, feeling triumphant in a strange way. _I **did**_ _feel much worse before. Not here–out in the middle of nowhere._

Grissom nodded slowly, but he didn't look convinced. "You're recovering from major surgery. It's completely reasonable to be in pain right now," he told her gently.

_It better be, because I am,_ Sara moaned inwardly. But then she noted the sympathetic expression on Grissom's face and right away, she found herself relenting. "Are you sure that truck only ran us off the road? 'Cause it feels like it landed on top of me. It hurts," she admitted, her moan escaping her lips. "But I _am_ okay. At least I will be."

"You'll tell me if you aren't?"

Sara nodded. "I made that promise already."

"Yes, you did. And you've done a good job keeping it."Watching her closely, Grissom held up the glossy paper in his hand. "This is what I was reading, to answer your question," he said, with a small, tired smile. "It's the article–the one I put in your pocket. Do you remember?"

"Yes," she replied. _How could I forget? The whole night keeps replaying in my mind._"Yes–I remember that. I remember everything about that." For a long moment, she just stared at him lovingly, admiringly. She was beyond touched by the fact that he remembered the article, and by the fact that he'd been reading it to her while she was asleep. And she was beyond grateful for the second chance she'd been given–the chance to really _live_, the chance to actually experience this new side of Grissom, the side she'd been desperate to see for so long."Thanks, Griss," she whispered, reaching up to touch the hand on her cheek. "Thanks for getting me here."

From the look in his eyes, he'd heard that before. "Sara–" He started, but then he paused, shying away from her. His blue eyes abandoned her brown ones and he stood up slowly, hesitantly, taking a deep breath. "Well, I've been thinking about getting another cup of coffee for awhile now," he said, eyeing the door."If you'll be okay alone for a minute, I'm going to run to the lounge, and then I'll have a look around for a nurse." His chin twitched."You don't need to be in pain right now."

"Grissom–I'm okay," Sara tried to insist, but he was gone before the words left her mouth. She shuddered. _What was that all about? What did I say?_ she wondered, as fear gripped her all over again._ It all happened so fast. Does he regret everything we talked about? Is he going to take it all back and pretend it never happened? Did I actually manage to convince myself that he wouldn't?_ Now she really was in pain. _Would he be sitting with you, reading to you if he planned to just forget everything that happened? Does he really feel guilty, just like Catherine said?_

Sinking down as far as she could into her pillow, Sara sought comfort for her aching brain. She tilted her head slightly, taking the pressure off the bump at the back and the cuts in her scalp. But the pressure of her thoughts remained. Her gaze wandered along with her heavy thoughts before coming to rest on the window, where gentle drops of rain glimmered through the glass. But her mind kept on going, processing the day, remembering what it felt like to wake up, again and again, to find Grissom at her side. His presence made even the most painful moments bearable. Her doctors' visits were the worst, and every time they tried to explain her extensive injuries, she was transported back to the cold, hard ground in the middle of nowhere, with Grissom hovering over her, trying to help her. But just knowing that he was still with her made all the difference, and she relied on his strength to help her focus on the progress she was making. In fact, earlier that day, during one of her doctors' visits, the decision had been made to move her out of the ICU and into a regular room. That move had made her entirely happy, because Greg and the rest of the team had finally been able to visit her. And those visits were the next best thing to having Grissom at her side.

Greg's visit was by far the funniest one, and that didn't surprise Sara at all. He had come into her room with about a dozen well-rehearsed, lighthearted jokes and a broad grin that had instantly eased her pain. The effect his visit had on her was remarkable and Sara knew exactly why. Greg had, after all, become one of her closest friends in the last year and she'd learned to rely on his hidden strength, his comfort. In all of those times when she felt like Grissom was forever out of her reach, Sara had managed to find happiness in Greg's friendship. It was a unique happiness–one that she treasured, one that was certainly helping her now. She just hoped that someday, she would be able to give happiness back to him. When _he_ needed it.

Warrick's visit was the shortest, but not for any specific reason. It just seemed to Sara that he said what he needed to and offered what he could in a smaller amount of time. She'd taken just as much from his short visit as she had from everyone else's longer ones. It was just different with him. Instead of words, Warrick had given her comfort with his eyes, and he'd given her a sense of strength that she would never be able to explain. Just looking into his eyes and searching their depths left her feeling stronger, safer. And she was more than grateful.

Brass' visit was the quietest, which had definitely seemed odd to Sara. The delightfully sarcastic detective was usually the one making jokes, filling the room with his hearty laugh and his teddy-bear personality. But he was silent at her side, his fingers on her shoulder the only evidence that he was even there at all. Sara wondered if he thought that she was asleep, since her eyes were only half-open and glazed from all the drugs she'd been given. But she didn't wonder for long. Somehow, she managed to figure out the reason why he wasn't speaking. It wasn't because he didn't want to–it was because he couldn't. He was actually speechless.

Nick's visit was certainly the fuzziest. Sara had just been given another significant dose of morphine before he'd come in, and the only thing she could really remember was the tight, hoarse sound of his voice. She didn't remember the words he'd said to her, or how much time he'd spent at her side, but she _did_ remember the comforting energy he'd brought into the room and the feeling of his warm hand on her cold one. She remembered his gentle gaze and the sound of his nervous breaths. She remembered realizing that he'd been scared too.

Catherine's visit was the most informative. From her blonde colleague, Sara learned–despite her drugged state–that many things happened after she lost consciousness. Her heart rate had skyrocketed during that conversation, as she learned just how hard Grissom fought and how desperate he'd been to get her to safety, to save her life. The details were both horrific and heartwarming, and Sara had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that they were talking about _her. She_ was the damsel in distress in Catherine's tale and Grissom was the humble hero, the knight who's armour hid so much needless guilt and so much longing. _He_ was chasing miracles, praying for the chance to love. _She_ was the beloved.

It had all brought her to tears.

And now she was in tears again–tears of pain, confusion, and desire, all of them flowing together.

"Sara? You okay?"

Wiping her cheeks with weak fingers, she turned her head to find a very concerned Grissom in the doorway. "You're back," was all she said, as a hint of scarlet coloured her pale, wet cheeks. _Now sit down and tell me what you're thinking!_

He quickly answered part of her silent command, taking back the seat that he'd made his own and setting his cup of coffee on the rolling table next to her bed. "I talked to one of the nurses," he told her, his eyes still avoiding hers. "She said she'd be in as soon as she could."

"I'm sure I'll make it until then."

"Honey–you're crying," Grissom whispered, between uneasy breaths."Is it–"

"The pain? Sort of." Sara flinched, her eyes drifting shut for a moment. She managed to bite back her cries of desperation, ignoring her need to know exactly what was going on in Grissom's mind. "How's the party?" she mumbled out, hoping to keep the conversation comfortable, at least for the next few minutes.

Grissom leaned back in his chair. "The party?"

"In the lounge? Where you went to get your coffee?" Her response was dark and tense, but she hadn't meant for it to come out that way.

"Oh–well, I'm afraid it's not _quite_ a party, Sara," Grissom replied. "Greg's asleep again, so naturally, the fun has been reduced–and in this case, to Nick and Warrick's game of crazy eights."

"Crazy eights? They must be pretty bored."

"Don't worry about them. They're fine. They can't wait to come in and see you again."

"And what about Greg? Sounds like he should go home and get some rest," Sara said, her voice now sounding cracked and painful. Her strangled cries were getting stronger, becoming heavy in her throat and chest.

Grissom nodded slowly, and then he quickly changed the subject. "Uh, Catherine's been talking to Doc Robbins and he sends his best wishes," he told her."And the whole lab's putting together a care package for you. I told them to wait and give it to you when they transfer you back to Vegas."

Sara bit her lip."Tomorrow, right?"

Grissom nodded again. "Tomorrow afternoon is what I heard. As long as you're still stable and responding to your meds."

"Oh, I'll be stable," Sara said determinedly.

"Of course you will be."Grissom smiled, but it wavered. "We'll get you back to Desert Palm and get you settled in, and then–"

"And then what, Grissom?"

"And then you get a lot of rest and you _recover._"

"I'm already recovering." _The question is, are you?_ Reaching with every ounce of strength she had, Sara grasped Grissom's arm, feeling her way to his palm. When she found it, she slipped her fingers into his so that their hands were intertwined, held together in the tightest squeeze she could manage. "I like holding your hand,"she whispered, as their gazes finally met again. "I don't want to stop."

Grissom's eyes widened. "I don't want you to stop."

"You sure?" she asked, as her heart rate increased. "Because I'm not sure if you're sure about that. I don't know how you're really feeling right now." Her vision started to become blurry. "I need to know what scared you off."

He sighed, guilt flooding his expression. "Nothing scared me off, Sara. Honey–it's nothing like that." Carefully, he bent over, bringing his head closer to her. "I don't want you to let go of my hand," he said softly, practically begging. "I don't ever want that to happen."

A warm wave of relief surged through Sara's sore body. _Thank God,_ she wanted to shout, as loudly as she could. _He's not going to push me away! He doesn't want to forget everything that happened! _She wanted to just thrust her arms out and pull Grissom into the world's largest, tightest hug, but she knew that her broken ribs would protest. They were already protesting, and she'd barely moved at all.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Grissom continued timidly. "That's the last thing I wanted to do. I just needed to make sure you're taken care of."

"Well, thank-you, Griss," Sara whispered. "But, uh, _you_ need to be taken care of too."

Grissom held up his bandaged wrist. "I'm fine. This is the worst of it," he told her. "It's sprained. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not talking about that."

Grissom shrugged. "Well, I'm not as tired as I look," he assured her."When Catherine's not telling everyone that I finally got my head out of the microscope, she's telling me to go home, so don't worry, honey, I've heard it already." He sighed, the fingertips of his free hand now brushing gentle circles on Sara's arm."What Cath doesn't seem to understand is that _home_ is a good hour and half drive from here, if not closer to two hours. That's pretty far to go for a shower and a nap."

"She's worried about you," Sara quietly replied, her voice low. _And I am too. I guess no one's thinking straight right now. Not Catherine. Not us. No one._ Sara took a careful, quivering breath."Griss–you really_ should_ get some rest. If someone can drive you home for awhile–"

"I'm not leaving."

_And I don't want you to leave me! But I'm concerned. I'm scared. For once, I can't read you! Something's bothering you and I don't know how to help! _She stared at him, her eyes still glazed and glistening with tired tears. "I'll be okay. As long as you–" her voice wavered. "As long as you come back, I'll be okay. You need to rest too. You _deserve_ that. You deserve more than that–"

"Stop, Sara," Grissom said firmly, choking out the words. "I'm not leaving, okay? I'm fine." He tried to straighten up but he shuddered in his seat, and Sara felt his fingers tremble. He _wasn't_ fine.

"Grissom," she said, in a tiny, panicked voice. "What is it? What's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm alright."

"No, you're _not,_" Sara insisted. "Look–Catherine told me everything," she revealed shyly. "She, uh, she told me that things wouldn't have turned out this way if you, um, if you hadn't–"

"Sara–" Grissom tried to stop her. Pain filled his blue eyes and he shut them quickly, tightly. "Don't. Please."

_But I need to do this. We need to do this._ "She, uh, she said that you feel responsible, Griss," Sara breathed. "Is that what this is about? Is that why you left before? Was it because I thanked you?"

His eyes remained closed, but he didn't pull away from her. "I _am_ responsible for what happened to you, Sara," Grissom said tightly, his voice barely audible. "I was the one who drove us off the road. _I_ made that decision."

"But you didn't have a choice!" _Grissom! You know that as well as I know that! How can you feel guilty for something that could never, ever be your fault?_ Sara tried to squeeze his hand even tighter but she was too tired, too weak. "I don't want you to feel this way," she whispered. "I could never blame you for this. Please don't blame yourself."

"I can't seem to stop," he sighed, gritting his teeth. "Even if it _is_ the most irrational thing in the world, I _can't_ stop."

Tears poured down Sara's cheeks. "You _have_ to," she begged. "What happened to us is not your fault. Please, just let it go and let me be grateful. _Please._ Tell me how to help you do that."

Grissom's eyes were suddenly red-rimmed, flooding, glimmering. Sara's heart skipped a beat. "We're not going to find that truck, Sara," he blurted out, as one tear threatened to trail away from his eye."You know that and I know that. We're _not_ going to find it. We're never going to know–"

Shaking wildly, Sara put her hand to Grissom's cheek, feeling the warmth there."I think I'm going to be okay with that," she said slowly, hoarsely. "I don't know why, but I'm okay with not knowing. Just this once."

"But I'm _not_ okay with it." Grissom's voice faltered. "We almost lost you, Sara. _I_ almost lost you. And–" His eyes fell, his gaze fixing on the floor. "I, uh, I guess I don't want to be the only one–" He trailed off, sounding very uncertain.

_Only one? What is he talking about? God, he's so upset!_ Sara's eyes widened. "I don't understand."

Still staring at the floor, he continued faintly. "I, uh, I want closure," he admitted. "I want _you_ to have closure. We give that to other people, every day. And now_ I_ want it. I–I want someone else to blame."

"But, Griss, we can't always _have_ that. You're the one who taught me that–" She stopped to catch her breath. _You taught me that when I didn't want to learn! You made me learn that I can't fix everything, no matter how hard I try. You can't fix everything either! We don't have that power._

Sara coughed, causing Grissom to look up in alarm. "Easy, Sara," he told her, as he leaned even closer. "I'm sorry. Just breathe, okay?"

"Don't be sorry," Sara sighed gently. "You're telling me how you feel and that's what I want. It's what I've _always_ wanted."

Grissom's face was pale, his eyes still glistening. "But I _am_ sorry," he said. "For everything. This shouldn't have happened to you. You shouldn't have to go through this. I wish I could erase it–"

"I don't."

"I wish I could take it away–"

"I _don't._"

Grissom seemed shocked. "Why?"

"Because as much pain as it caused, I _did_ get something good out of it," Sara breathed, blinking away her tears. "And I hope you feel that way too."

He was silent.

Sara continued quietly."I love you, Griss," she told him, with a soft, glowing smile. "I love you and we're both still here. Together. That's all that matters to me."

Before Grissom could respond, a single tear escaped his eye. Sara watched as it trickled down his cheek, knowing very well that it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. A moment later, she felt his lips on her forehead and then on her own lips, and she could _feel _that beauty. And she could still feel it when he pulled away, when he let a few more tears run free. Remaining silent, Grissom turned to look out the window.

His tears matched the gentle rain.

TBC

* * *

Author's Note: Thank-you so much for reading! To those of you who have been sticking with me despite the slow updates–you're amazing! Thanks to all those who reviewed the last two chapters! Special thanks to **committed, CSINut214, microgirl, sara kicks ass, Sonoali, GracefulBee, Trialia, drakien, Ashleigh24, leddy, Miss Adelon, Lanta, berta101, Eukanooba, DaVinci13, gabesaunt, jtbwriter, DolphinAnimagus, Chegs74, brainfear, Saralove33:), Sidle Chick, Adenara Yatman, No-one in particular, djkittycat, msgrits, Sara Sidle 87, Lin, cjtylr74, Rachel, ToMyGrave, gfhdfhd, tvspaz626, SMKLegacy, CSL, Aidrianna, Tarrabeena, lalaforte, Lily of the Shadow, csiobsessed, snackattack, Scratty-Gal, CrysWimmer, Elialys** and anyone I missed! 

Thanks!

Jazz


	18. Stargazing

Sara spent a week and a half at Desert Palm, battling through the last part of her journey home. As she recovered, she had realized–to her relief and delight–that she couldn't remember what it felt like to be lonely. The cold emptiness that had characterized her life for so long was quickly being replaced by warmth and a wonderful sense of completeness. Sara was used to sleeping, eating, _living_ all alone; she wasn't used to having someone by her side at all times. But she _loved_ the change–more than words could ever describe. She absolutely loved having Grissom beside her all day long. She loved knowing that she could see his face, hear his voice, and feel his hand in hers whenever she wanted. She loved the fact that he would come back to her every morning after work. He had gone back to work a week after the accident, and when she wasn't sleeping, she was counting the hours until he would return to her side and hold her until they both fell asleep. He always held her carefully, showing her just how worried he was that he would hurt her, break her, lose her. His embrace was careful but it was full of love, and Sara surrendered herself into it, over and over again.

Time flew by when she was in Grissom's arms. In fact, time flew like she never thought it could. Despite the pain and the long nights in the hospital, the weeks melted away as if they'd never happened at all. The details of those chilly hours in the wilderness remained fixed in her mind, but they were now fused with warmer memories, with feelings of hope and renewal. The dirt road, the darkness, the bonfire, useless cell phones, the sound of the leaves fluttering, the pain, Grissom's calming voice, the countless stars–it all faded into the present. It all faded into the many possibilities that now lay in front of her, in front of Grissom, in front of _them._

_This is where it all starts,_ she kept telling herself. _This is the beginning of everything. We've been given another chance to start what we should have been able to start ten years ago. Grissom keeps saying that it's a miracle. But I think it could be even more than that. _Every time those thoughts ran through her mind, an unfamiliar feeling of exhilaration surged through her entire body. And for the first time in her life, Sara found herself looking forward to what the next day would bring.

_Tomorrow is another day that I can spend with Grissom,_ she had realized, very early on in her recovery. _Tomorrow, I'll be stronger. Tomorrow, I'll be closer to home. Tomorrow is full of potential. Tomorrow is a mystery just waiting to be solved._

Indeed, Sara had been looking forward to the next day ever since she'd woken up in Northwestern hospital. The pain had been more than excruciating at times, and the promise of a better tomorrow had given her strength. It wasn't as good as the strength she continually gained from Grissom's presence, but it was helpful, and she'd needed it in the first few days after the accident. She had needed _a lot_ of things during those first pain-filled days.

And Grissom had given her everything he could.

He had been there every step of the way, holding her hand through the best and the worst of it, embracing her while she wept in pain, smiling when there was nothing _and_ everything to smile about. He had battled with his conscience throughout Sara's entire stay at Desert Palm, and not once had he taken any time for himself. Sara had talked to him every day about the guilt in his heart, insisting that it was unwarranted, insisting that he let it go. She had _begged_ him on several occasions, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Seeing Grissom in pain was the worst pain of all and she knew that he knew that. It was the reason why he was _still_ letting the guilt fester in his heart, letting only a bit out at a time. He was always putting her first, ignoring his own needs, forgetting about his own emotions. Sara was very aware of this, and she knew that it would be a long time before he would be able to let it all go. But she would be there for him, no matter how long it took. She would give him the closure that he needed, just by being there. He had already done that for her, after all.

The only thing he _hadn't_ done for her was allow her to push herself. Sara wanted desperately to challenge herself a little, and she believed that she was at exactly the right point in her recovery to begin doing so. She had been released from Desert Palm two days earlier and Grissom had been staying with her at her apartment, waiting on her, hand and foot. Sara was certainly grateful, and she was_ definitely _enjoying it; she just wanted to make sure that she was making progress. She would have to re-gain the physical strength and endurance she had lost while laying in a hospital bed, and she would have to stop taking painkillers at _some _point. She wanted to be able to function like a normal human being again and she wouldn't be able to unless she pushed herself along.

Grissom clearly disagreed, and that was why Greg was now lounging on Sara's couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Grissom had been forced to attend an administrative meeting that afternoon and he had asked Greg to stay with her while he was gone–just to make sure she had everything she needed. Sara had objected, of course–not to Greg's company, but to the fact that Grissom still thought she needed a babysitter.

"I'm fine," she had insisted, with a small smile on her lips. "I think I can handle sitting here for a couple hours. It's not like I'm going to go work out or anything."

Grissom had given her hand a tight squeeze. "I know you can handle it. I don't doubt it for a second. But you're still weak and I don't think you should be taking any risks."

"Sitting in a chair isn't risky, Griss."

"This is Vegas, honey. Everything is risky here."

He had given her a gentle, teasing scowl, his eyes full of love and the now familiar need to protect her. She wouldn't have been able to argue with those caring blue eyes, even if she tried with all her might–not that she would ever_ really_ want to. Those powerful eyes were the world to her. They had kept her going. She trusted them. She_ lived_ for them. She would do anything for them. She would even consent to having Greg babysit her.

And she did.

Reluctantly.

And although Sara would probably never admit it, Greg was very helpful that afternoon. He had helped to get her settled in her comfortable, well-cushioned chair, and then he had made her tea, since Grissom had told him to and left out a few tea bags and a mug, just so he would remember. Then he had made himself some coffee while waiting for Sara's late lunch–a vegetarian casserole, made by Grissom–to heat up in the oven. Now, as Sara slowly ate some of the casserole, he was simply keeping her company and doing a pretty good job of it.

"You know–" he said thoughtfully, between sips of coffee. "Finding out about this whole thing between you and Grissom wasn't really as shocking as I'm thinking it should have been." He shrugged, giving Sara a playful pout. "I'm completely jealous, of course. I always thought it would be us, since you and I have had this _thing _since–"

"Oh come on, Greg." Sara rolled her eyes, chuckling as much as her sore ribs would allow. "No offense or anything but I think that might have been just you."

"Ah, okay, maybe it _was _just me." Greg grinned. "But seriously though. You and Grissom? Should I have seen that coming?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, in complete honesty. "I doubt it. _We_ never really knew what was going on. We've done nothing but scare each other until now."

"Did you ever talk about it?"

"No," Sara sighed. "Not really. That was the problem. It's always been complicated with us, and until the accident, Grissom was one hundred percent emotionally unavailable."

"And now?"

_Now? Now everything is perfect. Or getting very close. _Sara smiled. "He's working on it."

"He better be," Greg said, his tone surprisingly stern. He took a deep breath and then gave Sara a shy, protective look, looking pale all of a sudden. His protective look was much different than Grissom's. Greg was all set to protect a really good _friend_; Grissom was clearly desperate to protect his soul mate.

Sara frowned. "Hey–you can't go and be serious all of a sudden. Especially after being so nosy."

Greg shook his head, staring at the floor for a few seconds. He looked uncomfortable and _really_ nervous. Sara wasn't sure what caused the change, but she didn't have to wonder for long. Greg licked his lips and then slowly met her gaze. "Sorry," he said quietly, awkwardly. "It's just–he's not the only one who almost lost you, you know?"

Sara stared at him, her heart thumping in her chest as she processed his words. _God, I'm lucky,_ she told herself. _I never thought people would care about me like this. _She sighed, exploring Greg's expression. It was obvious that the accident had been hard on her and on Grissom, but she hadn't really thought about anyone else. She hadn't even considered the possibility that Greg, and maybe even Catherine, could have been emotionally affected by the ordeal. They had been out there, too, after all. Not for long, but long enough to see her almost die.

In that moment, Sara understood the needless guilt that Grissom was holding on to. She found herself feeling responsible for Greg's emotions, even though she knew she probably shouldn't. She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_, but she didn't get very far. "Greg, I–I don't know what to–"

He stopped her, shaking his head. "Sara, forget it," he said softly, his smile re-appearing. "Just don't get hurt again, okay? It's completely uncool."

Sara let out an uneven breath, relieved that Greg had resorted to humour, as he often did. She silently thanked him for having such an amazing personality and then laughed lightly. "Uncool?"

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Well, I guess you would have been even _more_ uncool if you had given up. You're still here, so you get tons of points for that."

"Oh, thank-you," she replied, playing along. "But I don't think those points belong to me."

"Sure they do."

"They don't," Sara insisted. "They _really_ don't."

"They do. You're still here," Greg repeated.

"Yeah, but there are a lot of people I need to thank for that."

"Grissom. Obviously."

Sara nodded. "And you and Cath. From what Grissom has told me, we were pretty far down that road and it would have–" She paused, fighting back a shiver. "It would have taken him a long time to reach the main road if he'd kept on walking."

Greg shrugged, and slowly, his eyes began to sparkle. "Well, we always knew I was hero material. But really, I gotta say, there's not much to it. Superman is way overrated."

"Shut up, Greg. I'm trying to thank you."

He sighed, looking embarrassed. "You don't need to thank me, Sara. I, uh, I didn't really do anything but watch."

"You were _there,_" Sara replied softly. "And you got _there_ just in time."

He bit his lip, shrugging again. "Catherine drives fast. _Way_ over the speed limit."

Sara's aching ribs stopped her from throwing her hands up in frustration. "Why won't anyone let me thank them!" she exclaimed. "Why is it so hard to accept my gratitude? You guys saved my life and I want to make sure you understand how much that means to me."

Greg stared at her. "We know," he said, as he reached over to squeeze her hand. "We understand. It's just kinda weird, that's all. It's still hard to believe that all of this happened."

Sara closed her eyes for a moment. "Trust me, I know."

"I know you do." Greg gave her a sympathetic smile and then pointed at her almost-empty mug. "More tea?"

Sara nodded and she shifted in her seat, leaning back further into the cushions. She bit back a cry, refusing to let Greg know that she was still in pain. _Grissom might be right,_ she admitted to herself, as she watched Greg move around the kitchen. _Maybe I'm not ready to push myself just yet. I don't need to rush my recovery when I have people who are more than willing to help me out. It's okay to ask for help; I'll return the favour someday._

"Do you want some more casserole?" Greg called out. "Or dessert? I make a mean banana split."

Sara let out a tiny chuckle. "I'm sure you do, but I don't have junk food here."

"Bananas aren't junk food."

"Ha. Ha." Sara rolled her eyes. "I _will_ have some more casserole though."

"More of Grissom's marvellous veggie casserole coming right up."

And before Sara knew it, she had another steaming mug of tea in her hand, a plate full of a second helping of casserole on her lap, and she was immersed in a conversation about music with Greg. That conversation seemed to last forever, and by the time Sara finished her tea and her casserole, she was yawning and fighting with her eyelids. _I can't wait until I can make it through an entire day without a nap,_ Sara grumbled to herself. _That would be nice._

"You're looking pretty worn out, Sar. Want me to help you to your room?" Greg asked her, as he stood to gather up the dishes. "I don't mind."

Sara was about to shake her head and say no, but then her eyes decided to close without her permission. _Don't push yourself, Sidle. Greg wants to help. Let him help you and then you can go to sleep. And when you wake up, Grissom will be back._

So Sara nodded slowly and then she extended her hand, hoping that Greg would grab it and help her up. He did, being as gentle as he could be, and then he helped her to her room, guiding her to the bed and helping her lie down. She whispered her thanks, and he covered her with a blanket, patting her shoulder lightly as she drifted off.

Sara didn't hear Greg leave, and she didn't hear Grissom come in. In fact, she wasn't aware of anything at all until Grissom's fingertips pulled her out of her deep slumber. His fingers were so soft on her cheek and on her forehead, rubbing faintly, carefully, lovingly. Sara's eyes flickered open at his warm touch, and she instantly lit up.

So did Grissom.

_She's so incredibly beautiful,_ Grissom thought, as Sara's sleepy eyes sparkled. He sat down on the edge of the bed, losing himself in those shining orbs. "Hi, honey," he whispered, as he brushed her hair away from her face. "How are you feeling?"

Sara let out a breath, fighting through the now familiar haze of semi-consciousness. "Mmmmm, good. How long have I been asleep?"

His fingertips now dusted across the back of her neck. "Awhile."

"Awhile? What time is it?"

"Just after seven," Grissom said quietly. "Greg said you've been asleep since three."

"Three?" Sara moaned, and with Grissom's help, she eased herself into a sitting position. "Are you serious? I slept for four hours?"

"You needed it, Sara."

"Maybe, but now we'll only have a few hours together." Sara was clearly disappointed, but she managed a warm, wavering smile. "I didn't want to waste any time." _I never want to waste any time again! _

Grissom brought his hand back to her cheek, stroking it slowly. "It's okay. I didn't get back until around five. Don't worry about it, honey."

"I do worry about it. I wanted to spend some time with you."

"And you will."

"I will?"

He tipped his head, smiling. "I, uh, I took the night off."

Sara was definitely awake now, her face glowing. "_You_ took the night off?"

"Yes. I've changed, remember?" Grissom winked at her, and then he gently turned her so she could swing her legs over the side of the bed. His eyebrows raised when she allowed him to do so. "This is new," he commented. "You're letting me help you without any sort of protest. What did Greg do to you?"

"He didn't do anything," chuckled Sara. "I just decided that maybe I should let you guys fuss over me for a little longer. It's not so bad having all this help."

Grissom's eyes were suddenly flooded with concern. "You were in pain this afternoon?"

_Yeah, I knew I couldn't fool him. _Sara sighed. "A little. But nothing unexpected."

Grissom wrinkled his nose and he began to rub her arm gently. _God, I wish I could just take all of her pain away. If only it worked that way. _He searched her expression, looking for any indication that she was still in pain. "But you're feeling okay now?"

Sara's fingers found his. "I'm feeling fine now," she assured him. "It wasn't that bad, Griss. It came and went."

_It came and went? How often?_ Grissom licked his lips, forcing himself not to worry. He knew that Sara was making great progress but he couldn't help being concerned. The image of her lying on the ground, scared and broken, was still stuck in his mind, and he knew it always would be. _That night will never go away,_ he had been telling himself, every day. _It won't go away, but it will fade a little. It will be easier to deal with it as the weeks pass. Time heals all wounds, right?_

"I know what you're thinking," Sara breathed.

Grissom met her gaze. _Of course you do,_ he told her silently. _We understand each other. We're on the same page now. But then again, we always have been, in some way. _He took a deep breath."What am I thinking?"

"You're concerned, even though I'm telling you that you don't need to be."

He squeezed her hand. "That was an easy one."

She squeezed back. "No kidding."

Grissom helped Sara to her feet, keeping one strong arm around her shoulders. "You know," he began, as he guided her out the bedroom door. "I, uh, made some plans for tonight, if you're feeling up to going out for a little while."

Sara stopped and she immediately grinned. "Are you serious?"

"Completely serious."

"You made plans? For tonight?_ Away_ from here?"

Grissom let out a short laugh. "Yes. I know you're frustrated and sick of being stuck inside, and I want to help. _And_, just like you, I don't want to waste any more time."

Still smiling, Sara pressed her lips together in thought. "What do you mean?"

Grissom gave her another wink. "You'll see."

_I'll see?_ Sara's heart fluttered with nervous excitement. She was definitely looking forward to going out and actually _doing_ something, but she was more intrigued by the meaning of Grissom's plans. She tried to guess where they were going while Grissom searched for her heaviest sweater and her coat, talking to her the entire time about how important it was that she stay as warm as possible during their outing. _So we're going to be outside,_ Sara concluded, as Grissom gathered the items. _But what are we going to be doing outside?_ She kept on pondering while he helped her put on her sweater and her coat, and she was no closer to an answer when he helped her into the front seat of his new vehicle, cushioning her with a few pillows before fastening the seatbelt around her.

"You okay?" he asked softly. "Are you comfortable?"

Sara nodded brightly. _I'm more than comfortable! The most wonderful, considerate man in the entire world is taking me out and making sure that I'm warm and safe. I'm comfortable inside and out! The only thing else I could ever ask for is to know where we're going! _She decided to inquire. "So where _are_ we going, Griss?"

He shrugged, shaking his head shyly. "It's a surprise."

"Another road trip?" Sara mused playfully.

"It's not really a road trip," Grissom replied, his blue eyes momentarily full of sadness."I don't think either of us could handle that just yet. We won't be driving for long."

"So we're not leaving Vegas then?"

He moved to shut her door, smiling again. "You'll have to wonder about that for a little while because I'm not telling."

And he _didn't_ tell her.

Grissom drove in silence, with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on Sara's knee. Her hand rested on top of his, her fingers stroking as they drove along–carefully–in the darkness. Their mystery destination really _wasn't_ that far away, but it was far enough that the lights of Vegas were fading behind them. Sara found herself grinning as those twinkling, familiar lights disappeared. _I guess we are leaving Vegas!_ she thought, as she stared out the window curiously. _But I officially have no idea what we're going to be doing outside of Vegas. Not that it really matters! I'm spending the entire night with Gil Grissom and even if we do nothing at all, it will be incredible. We'll be together, and neither of us will be in pain tonight._

Grissom started to slow the vehicle, pulling his hand from Sara's knee in order to steer them off of the expressway and onto a more secluded road, one that was darker, but familiar. He turned a corner and held his breath, remembering the shadowy corners that he had navigated two weeks earlier, just before he'd seen the headlights, just before he'd lost control, just before their lives were changed forever–for the better. _But tonight is completely different,_ Grissom reminded himself. _I know this road. I know its twists and its turns. I know that we'll be safe this time._ He was comfortably confident, because he really _did_ know exactly where he was. He had been to this specific place several times before, alone. He had enjoyed it by himself, but now that he had Sara with him, he would finally experience it in a wonderful, new light. He could only imagine how it would feel tonight.

Feeling both nervous and exhilarated, Grissom brought them to a gentle stop in a small field. It was almost completely dark now, and the small hills that surrounded the area were just barely visible in the clear moonlight.Weather-wise, the night was perfect, and a temporary calmness swept through Grissom's tense muscles. He used that calm moment, pushing himself into motion. He got out of the vehicle quickly and then moved to help Sara, his hands careful on her back and shoulders. She smiled at him as he grabbed the pillows from the seat and handed them to her, and her smile grew when he opened the back door and pulled out a large blanket, tucking it under his arm.

"So this is the surprise?" Sara asked, blushing wildly. "A field, clear skies, pillows, a blanket–"

Raising one eyebrow, Grissom reached into the back again and pulled out a small picnic basket, presenting it to her.

Now it was Sara's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Hmmmm, okay. A field, clear skies, pillows, a blanket, _and_ a picnic basket. I think I'm getting the picture." She reached up to touch Grissom's cheek, silently thanking him for a night that hadn't even started yet. "I'm just missing one thing, aren't I?" she breathed, as she dropped her hand and snuggled up against him.

Grissom nodded, hugging her close. "Look up, honey."

Sara did, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Stars," she whispered hoarsely. "There's so many of them."

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

She cleared her throat. "It's incredible."

Grissom pressed his lips together, analysing and reflecting as he admired the night sky. "The stars are so far away, Sara," he said softly, carefully. "They're so far away but–" He took a deep breath. "But I–I have never felt closer to them than I did that night."

Sara squeezed his arm, and she slowly met his gaze. "I think I know what you mean."

"I think you do too."

"There were so many," Sara replied, her voice barely audible. "Just like tonight. So many–" She trailed off, watching now as Grissom spread the blanket out on a patch of even ground. He took the pillows from her and placed them appropriately before helping Sara lay down against them. "I remember finding the Little Dipper," Sara chuckled lightly, as Grissom took the place next to her, wrapping the blanket around both of them. "It was the _only_ thing I could find."

Grissom found a comfortable position, resting his head close to Sara's. "And I remember telling you that, if we had more time, I would teach you how to find the constellations."

Sara turned to face him and the tips of their noses almost touched. "And here we are," she whispered. _We were given more time. We actually got the chance to do this!_

"That was how I was running my life, Sara," Grissom continued, sighing."I always thought that I didn't have the time to do so many of the things I wanted to do. I was always working and always telling myself that if I had more time, I would be able to have a relationship with you. But it never occurred to me to _make_ time. I never let myself think that way."

"But you're thinking that way now, and you're not too late."

Slowly, Grissom wrapped his arm around Sara's waist. "I've been waiting for this for so long, and I shouldn't have." _I almost lost my chance forever because I waited, because I didn't really understand time! Waiting almost cost me everything._

"Don't wait any longer. For anything," Sara breathed. "It doesn't make sense to wait."

"I don't plan to," he replied, holding her even closer to him.

"Good." Sara pressed her head into his chest, listening to his pounding heart. "This is perfect, Griss," she said, amazed that this night out under the stars felt so different than the previous one. There were some similarities–she was with Grissom, they were out in the dark, discussing their feelings, falling even further in love. But there were important differences too. This time, they knew that they would have a future together. This time, they could stay in each other's arms for as long as they wanted to. This time, they could do more than trust the faithful stars–they could really _enjoy_ them.

"I was a little worried that this might upset you," Grissom admitted. "I didn't know if it would bring back painful memories–or good ones."

"It's not upsetting me at all. Good memories only," Sara told him quickly. "But really, I'm not even thinking about the accident."

"What _are_ you thinking about?"

She looked up at him, grinning. "How glad I am that you didn't take me to the planetarium."

He chuckled, brushing his fingers through her hair. "Never," he promised. "That's not the real thing, remember? The real thing is right out here." _And I don't mean the stars, Sara,_ he thought, staring into her eyes with an unfamiliar but exciting degree of intensity. _This is the real thing. You and I. And we can have it. We can make time for it. We can make all the time in the world for it, because nothing else is important. I want to be with you every day, all day and all night, for the rest of my life._

"I'm glad that we can have the real thing," Sara whispered, her mind in the exact same place as Grissom's. _This is the real thing. This is finally going to happen. We're going to be together after so many years of wanting and needing each other. We're going to live for the first time in our lives._ Sara bit back a cry of pure happiness; just thinking about it all made her shiver with delight.

There was only silence for a few moments, and both of them shifted slowly so that they could gaze up into the sky and still hold each other, still _feel_ each other. Grissom rubbed Sara's arms, keeping her warm and relaxed while he built up the confidence he needed to _really_ make the night perfect._ This is it,_ he told himself. _This is exactly the right moment. Everything is about to change. And God, it's going to be a beautiful ride._

Grissom took a deep breath and brought his mouth to Sara's ear, letting out a warm puff of air. "I really want to kiss you right now," he told her, his voice husky and wavering.

She licked her lips, and they curved into another broad smile. "Well good. I want that too," she replied. "I _really_ want that."

Her words set him free, and his lips found hers instantly, passionately. It wasn't their first kiss, by any means, but the world faded away from them the moment their lips touched. It was powerful, prolonged, perfect. And when Grissom finally pulled away, he had just enough energy to say the words he had wanted to say for years.

"I love you," he said, his voice ringing out clearly, confidently, breathlessly. "I _love_ you, Sara."

Sara stared at him, her eyes wildly bright as she trembled in his arms, silently repeating his words. _He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. _She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but she couldn't form the words. Her brain was temporarily frozen; her heart was beating out of control, pounding, pumping sizzling sparks through her. She had never seen fireworks quite like the ones that were echoing through her body.

Grissom rested a gentle hand on her cheek and she finally found her words. "I love you too," she replied, her voice breathless, like his. She leaned in to kiss him again, and their lips lingered together for seconds, for minutes, for hours. Taking all the time they needed, Grissom and Sara spent the entire night kissing, reflecting, planning, laughing, and stargazing.

_One–two–three–four–one hundred–one million._

The infinite stars witnessed it all.

The End

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the last chapter of Faithful Light! It took me forever to post it, and I apologize for the wait. I would like thank you all for taking this long journey with me! I have really enjoyed writing this story and the feedback has been so generous and thoughtful. I am going to try out that new review reply button and thank you individually for all the great comments and suggestions. Thank-you for everything! 

Jazz


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